Halloween Madness Courtesy of Draco Malfoy
by schye
Summary: [Ch.8][HGDM]First it was two balls in one year, then Malfoy starts to act like Harry Potter is his best friend and he has always been in love with Hermione Granger, then he infiltrates Gryffindor Tower! What has the world gotten into?
1. Announcements, Anyone?

HALLOWEEN MADNESS

(Courtesy of Draco Malfoy)

Chapter 1: ANNOUNCEMENTS, ANYONE?

The great hall was abuzz with the news of a Halloween Ball coming up as dinner fast approached. Harry, Hermione and Ron came in and were greeted by the sound of excited murmurs from their fellow students.

Even as they settled down in their seats at the Gryffindor tables and the plates began to pile with food, the noise still was not halted, and if possible, turned an even more animated pitch.

"Honestly," said Hermione in a huffy voice. "It's not as if this is the first time they are going to attend a Halloween Ball."

"But Hermione," Parvati, overhearing her, said. "Aren't you even in the least bit excited that we have two balls in one year?"

"Excited?" she reiterated. "Well, let me see...no."

"But why?"

"Aside from the obvious fact that they are only apart by a month, the Yule Ball and the Halloween Ball, I mean, there is also the matter of the workload that the teachers are giving us in preparation for our N.E.W.T.s next year."

Ron and Harry were smart enough not to intrude when Hermione gets hyped up with her reasoning. But, of course, there were times when she needed to just keep silent about things especially if everyone seems to find her reasons quite irrelevant to the matter or if everyone sides against her. "Hermione, have you bought me a Christmas present just yet?" asked Ron unwittingly.

She gave him a look that told him she seriously was considering whether or not he belonged outside St. Mungo's. "No, Ron. It's the first week of October."

"Yes, well, I just thought that you have gotten the habit of buying presents in advance," he replied abashedly, red tinting his cheeks.

Harry intercepted before anything else was said, coming to Ron's rescue, he said, "Hey, 'Mione, what if there really was a ball, who'd you be going with?"

She took a sip of her pumpkin juice before answering. "Well, I don't think I'll be going anyhow. No use trying to sullen my brain to think of a possible partner that is, if anyone actually asks me this time 'round."

Just then, Dumbledore stood up from his chair along the Faculty's table and clanged a fork against his own goblet.

"I think he's got an announcement to make."

"No, Harry. Of course not. What made you think that?" said Hermione dryly.

Harry stared at her. "Okay. Hermione, don't do that again. That was scary."

Ron nodded his head.

"Hmmm..."

Dumbledore, on the other hand, was saying: "And so, to end the gossips, I announce that there shall really be a Halloween Ball. It had only been decided the first day of this month. It was supposed to be a surprise but seeing as everyone seems to know about it now..." he let his voice trail off.

The students couldn't contain their joy at that statement. They started cheering and clapping loudly until Dumbledore continued.

"And to promote House Unity, I decree that the even shall be an Inter-House Ball. You all know what that means, don't you?" he asked, his eyes twinkling. "It means that you shall have to go with a person from another House if you want rewards."

There was a wave of grumble that enveloped the Great Hall at his announcement. Most of them were going out, all right _but _with members of the same Houses they belonged to. They took it unfair that the Headmaster just had to devise such a plan.

"Please, settle down, students," said Dumbledore in a cheery voice. "Let me reiterate what I said. Going with another person from another House shall give you rewards for your own Houses."

"What sort of rewards could that be?" Ron muttered under his breath. "Do we get to have Snape fired from Hogwarts?"

Dumbledore said, "The rewards do not include firing anyone from the Hogwarts faculty staff."

Ron frowned and looked at his friends. "He didn't hear me, did he?"

"Don't think so," answered Harry.

"You shall have extra House points for coming with someone from another House." At this last statement, Dumbledore went back to his seat.

"Well, I could live without that," said Ron as the noise erupted in the Hall once again . "I mean with Harry and us getting to every sort of trouble that brings us more points than we could imagine at the end of every year."

"Ron!" Hermione hissed warningly.

Harry's face fell. He remembered Sirius. If it hadn't been for his foolishness, his godfather would've still been alive...

"Sorry, mate," said Ron, realizing the error he made.

He shook his head at him. "It's all right."

"What do you think, Hermione?" Ron asked, trying to ease the tension he, himself, started.

"Well, honestly, I think it's ingenious that he used the rivalry between the Houses when it comes to House Points to bring about unity among them. Merlin knows the Slytherins need all the friends that they can."

The tall red-head stared at Hermione. "Never thought of it like that. I mean, you wouldn't date Crabbe in exchange for house points, would you?"

She looked disgusted at the very suggestion that her voice dripped with it. "Hell, no! I was thinking more of Malfoy. He's a smarmy git and all but at least his looks make a girl want to rethink things all over."

Harry choked on his chicken leg. Ron, dazedly, thumped him on the back. And the both of them promptly stared at her with wide-eye incredulity and bemusement.

"I was kidding, you know," she said, exasperated. "You didn't think I was serious, did you?"

Hermione didn't get a reply for that query.

* * *

"An Inter-House Ball, is it?" murmured Draco Malfoy. "The old dingbat's finally got a good idea."

"What's so good about it, Draco?" asked Goyle, food shooting from his mouth like miniature projectiles.

Draco threw him a napkin. "Cover your mouth, Goyle. You wouldn't want me to catch all your nasty germs, would you?"

The napkin stuffed in his mouth, and trying to chew his food, Goyle shook his head.

"Good boy, Goyle."

"Draco, who're you taking?" Pansy asked beside him. "I haven't got anyone to go with," she offered the information.

A disdainful golden brow lifted, he asked, "Are you trying to imply something? Cause, you know, I'm not taking the bait. I've got a good plan for myself."

"What plan?" this from Crabbe who could not formulate a sentence with more than five words.

"This," he said smugly, with a superior smile pasted on his pale features. He stood up, and said in a loud voice to get across amid the noise. "Hear, hear. I have an announcement to make."

Silence once again reigned in the Hall. After all, this was Draco Malfoy, a _rich _prefect.

"What's that prat up to now?" Ron muttered.

Harry suggested, "He's probably going to announce his costume just to make sure no one gets the same idea."

"I am sorry to break the hearts of all those who have the desire to ask me to go out with them but I have made my decision. I am going with the mud--Grang--Hermione."

Hermione, at the Gryffindor table, dropped her jaw, literally. Ron's eyes widened and his gaze fell on the surprised Hermione. "Hey, you all right?"

"I have several reasons for having decided as so. But the one important thing is that I can't take Potter out. Not that he'd not find me attractive, but it will not go well with the image, if you know what I mean. Weasely just isn't much of a date. The only mortal enemy I have other than the two of them is Grange--Hermione. She's a girl. And she's my complete opposite. Perfect, isn't it?"

The Gryffindors roared their disapproval at his announcement, but Draco held up a hand at them and said, "And no objections are accepted. Especially if the opinions are from the Gryffindorks."

The Slytherins burst into malicious laughter while the Gryffindors shouted their outrage. Meanwhile, the Ravenclaws looked half-decided whether to join in or continue with studying and at the same time, the Hufflepuffs looked on with tedious expressions on their faces.

Professor McGonagall stood up and shouted at everyone to keep quiet. When that didn't work, she put a Silencing Charm over them all and told them that if one word was uttered when the charm is taken off, he or she or _they, _for that matter, will have to suffer working with Filch for two whole weeks as punishment.

The threat proved sufficient enough.

"Hermione, you don't look all right," Harry reasserted for the nth time, taking a good look at Hermione's pale face and the wobbly way she walked.

"I am fine, Harry. Don't be such a worry-wart," she insisted.

"I still don't believe the gall on that Malfoy!" Ron said with much contempt. "How dare he announce what he did! It just makes me want to--"

"Kneel before him in absolute hero-worship and show him my gratitude for actually mentioning my name in his wondrous speech," drawled a certain voice the three of them have learned to hate in a matter of minutes--and five years and one month.

"Malfoy," Ron said through gritted teeth. "What do you want?"

Malfoy gave Ron a curt nod and said, "Weasley. I don't want anything from you. But you might want something from me--but let's not dwell on that because I'm straight."

Ron flushed, his anger beginning to show signs.

The platinum-haired prefect said, after rolling his eyes, "I knew Gryffindors were slow to thinking but I would have thought that I've made myself clear a few minutes ago."

"Well, she doesn't want to talk to you!" Harry said scathingly. "You've done too much for this day to cause her trauma to last her a whole year!"

"Good to hear I'm quite effective," he drawled out. "Stop being such a hero, Potter. I don't appreciate it. Plus, it makes you look like a complete prat, oh wait. You are."

Harry replied sarcastically, "Coming from you, I deem that a great compliment. Thank you."

"So, Granger?"

Cold brown eyes settled on Draco Malfoy. "No."

"What? Come on, you must be kidding!"

"Can't you take a 'no', Malfoy?" asked Ron heatedly. "Or maybe, your-too-frail-a-Slytherin-mind could not even begin to comprehend what that simple word means!"

"Weasel," said Draco coldly. "I am not here to _even_ see you. Why would I want to hear your none too effective insults?"

"Let's just go," said Hermione, and turned her back on them.

Ron and Harry looked at each other, both wanting to smash Malfoy's face in but they knew they had to follow Hermione, who was bound to throw fits.

"Tell her that I don't give up easily," said Malfoy with a smirk as the other two left.

Harry left him a disgusted look.

* * *

Having recovered sufficiently after a few days, Hermione got back her usual chores--performing prefect duties and doing her assignments.

That day, she was up at the library, researching about the make-up and ingredients of an Aging Potion for an upcoming Potions class.

Malfoy was able to corner her.

"Granger."

She held her chest in surprise, too absorbed in the book she was reading to notice his approach. "Malfoy, you gave me a fright."

"Nice to know we're on speaking terms now."

Remembering Malfoy's annoucement, her eyes turned cold and she said, "What is it that you want from me? And before I forget," she added firmly, "no."

"But I haven't asked anything yet," he said pointedly. He pulled himself a seat beside hers and he continued. "I have a proposition to make."

"I'm not interested."

"I'm sure you will be," said Draco in a self-assured voice. "But you have to hear me out first."

Her eyes narrowed at him in suspicion, she said, "Whatever it is that you propose to do, you could bring it up to someone else. You could ask Colin Creevey."

"Granger, please credit with some taste. Creevey is as bad as Diggory, God bless his soul, but still not worse than Potter. But that is beside the point," he added hastily, collecting himself. "I think that you and I shall benefit from my proposition."

Hermione raised a brow at him. "You made a plan to benefit another person?" she asked, wanting to make sure she heard clearly.

"Yes," he said, his brows furrowing a little. "I guess that sounds just a bit too conniving, right? Too obvious, actually, that I'm up to no good."

She nodded her head vigorously. "That's right."

"Still beside the point. Anyway, are you willing to listen?"

Hermione looked at her wristwatch. "All right, Malfoy, five minutes, then."

Draco smirked at her. "Knew you'd give in."

"Four minutes and thirty seconds."

"All right, all right. First, Halloween plan is to go with arch rivals. It's All Hollow's Eve. Mischief is amid. Need I say more? Second, you and I. Obvious, right?"

She looked uncertain.

"Let me explain further that your poor pathetic mudblood brain could comprehend better," he said with an air of arrogance. "You and I are well suited for each other for Halloween. You see, I've devised a plan that we don't have to wear any costume."

Hermione's brows quirked upwards in inquiry. "How?"

"We're rivals. You and I compete for top grades in classes, Arithmancy and Potions namely, probably a bit of Transfiguration and Charms, too..." Malfoy drifted off as he enumerated the subjects they had.

"Two minutes."

"Fine. Anyway, that's one. Second, you're one of Potter's best friends. I am Potter's biggest enemy here in Hogwarts unless you count Professor Quirrel and the Heir of Slytherin thing back in second year...but that's still beside the point. Thirdly, I am Draco Malfoy, purblood. You're a lowly, filthy mudblood."

"That's not making me agree to your terms, you know," Hermione said dryly, unaffected by Malfoy's snide remark.

"Last and most important of all, I am beautiful. I have been gifted with a wonderful physique and a valuable face. You, on the other hand, cannot say the same for yourself."

Hermione slammed her hand on the table in indignation. "Malfoy, if you are here to flaunt your narcissism, leave me be."

Madame Pince stared sharply at them. "I would appreciate it if you lower your tones."

"Sorry," Hermione mumbled. "See what you've done!" she hissed at Malfoy.

He continued to smirk at her. "If you'd only listen to me, we'll get to the part which benefits us both."

"All right, Malfoy. You're down to your last minute."

"Well, seeing as we get into each other's nerves all the time, being Gryffindorks and Slytherins and all, we shall foster House Unity. It shall start with us. Just imagine the humongous amount of House Points we might receive for swallowing our bile for a night."

Hermione paused. "I'll think about it."


	2. Lists

Disclaimer: Still not mine but still wishing they were, though.

Warning: OOCness galore! so if you aren't into this sort of thing, better just retreat. You have been warned.

HALLOWEEN MADNESS (COURTESY OF DRACO MALFOY)

CHAPTER 2: LISTS

"Hermione!" Ron came to a skidding halt next to her in the hallway.

She quirked her head to one side and said, "Hi, Ron. What is it that you want to have you running like that after me?"

"I made a list for you!" he announced proudly.

"A list?"

"Yup. Here. Read," he handed her a piece of paper

Hermione scanned over the list entitled by Ron as **List of Things to Say to Malfoy (For the Lack of a Better Name)**. "What is this?"

"Just as it says. A list of the words you could say to Malfoy when he bothers you again." Ron looked like a newly petted cat, dripping with satisfaction.

The list read:

**_Part I: Simple/Cut-Direct _**

_1. Bugger off, Malfoy. 6. Get away from me!_

_2. Malfoy, bugger off. 7. Scram, you evil person, you!_

_3. Sod off, Malfoy. 8. Malfoy, you are a pillock _

_4. Malfoy, sod off. 9. You are a pillock, Malfoy. _

_5. Eeep! Go away! (In case you run out, try shifting the words around like I did.)_

**_Part II: The fanciful ones (along with excuses)_**

_1. Malfoy, you see, I don't like you. It's not you entirely but also partly your parents' fault. I won't **ever** like you. I really am sorry...(laugh here)._

_2. I'm allergic to narcissistic, evil prats like you. I gag when I go out with them. And no, I've never tried to go out with the likes of you, so don't ask how I know. Sorry. _

_3. I would really want to go out with you except for a minor setback--you're Draco Malfoy._

_4. The dark persona clashes greatly with your (smarmy) hair and (pasty) complexion. I'm sorry but it just won't work out._

_5. I don't like silver and green._

_6. Don't you get it? Can't you just take a clue?!?_

Hermione raised her eyes at Ron, who looked on expectantly. She was contemplating on telling him one of the things he had on the list but asked instead, "Where's Harry? Did he help you with this?"

"No. Made that all on my own in History of Magic while Binns droned on about Witch Trials."

"Well, good for you," she said quite pleasantly. "But I think you better have it back."

Ron's face fell. "But Hermione," he wailed. "I worked hard on that!"

Harry came up behind Ron, panting. "Why'd you run off?" he asked. "What's this?" He took the piece of parchment Hermione was handing on to Ron.

Once done with his reading, Harry's brow rose. "Sod off, Malfoy and Malfoy, sod off?"

"Yes. I thought that some sentences work better when they're euphonic but I can't decide which was more euphonic than the other," he replied with a shrug.

Hermione rolled her eyes and said, "Ron, I won't say those things to Malfoy. For one, he won't accept them. Two, he's way too arrogant to even hear them out."

"Suddenly you know him so well," said Ron, feigned hurt in his voice. "What about me? Do you not care how I feel?"

Exasperated, she waved her goodbyes and told them that she'd be at the library if they needed help from her.

* * *

"You're alone again."

Surprised, Hermione nearly turned back on her heels and head the other way when Draco Malfoy appeared from another corridor leading to the library.

"Are you getting the habit of sneaking up on other people? Or is it just me?" she snapped at him. "What do you want _again?" _

"Same thing I wanted yesterday," he replied nonchalantly, leaning on the wall. "You said you'll think about the proposition."

"I have already," she replied after heaving a sigh.

"And?" he prompted.

"I'm not accepting it. But you could still take it up to Colin," she offered. "You just might have a chance with him."

"Did I not make myself clear when I said that Creevey is completely out of the question?" he drawled lazily, while looking revolted at the very thought.

_How does he do that? _Hermione wondered to herself. "Well, I don't think Harry's got a date yet."

Malfoy smirked at her. "Oh, that, I understand. Potty could and, might as well, go with the Weasel. They will never catch anyone in time for the Dance."

"That's a little bit of too much hope, is it?" Hermione asked him warily. "Malfoy, if you really want to gain House Points for Slytherin, you could go out with a Ravenclaw. They seem to be enamoured by you. At least, some of them seem to be," and with that, she let her gaze fall at three Ravenclaws batting their eyelashes at Draco Malfoy at the other side of the corridor whom Draco did not seem to be noticing.

"Where's the fun of the chase?" he asked in a reasonable tone.

"You want a chase?" Hermione repeated.

"Yes."

"Well, then, you could go with a magical creature. How about a flobberworm? Or maybe, if you're into regal looking creatures, you can have a unicorn, that's sure to give you some sort of chase. Or for best effect, you could turn up with a ferret."

Malfoy scowled at her. "Your attempt at humor is not appreciated."

"I'm not trying to humor you, Malfoy," she asserted, curbing a grin off her face. "What I'm doing is giving you alternatives. Now, if you're still not satisfied, go to someone else. I have better things to do."

"Like wallow in self-pity for having to turn me down?" he shouted as she turned her back from him. "I won't allow you to do that! I'll continue pursuing you!"

"No, thank you!" was Hermione's curt reply, looking back at him before continuing on.

* * *

"Let's do this again, Goyle," Draco heard Pansy say as he entered the Slytherin Common Room. "Why are you taking Muggle Studies?"

"I need to learn more about Muggles," said Goyle, struggling to get the words out of his mouth.

Pansy's arched brows went upwards. "Why?"

"I don't know. Do you?"

Draco choked on his laughter. The Malfoys were a cunning, vicious, ruthless race. They have in them what it takes to completely waddle in the pond of absolute evil. Laughing at his sidekick's own stupidity did not add anything good for the reputation.

He showed himself. "What seems to be the problem?"

Pansy shot him a wearied look. "Goyle is having trouble with Muggle Studies."

"Why'd he take the subject in the first place?"

She shrugged. "It was probably the only subject that didn't sound difficult to him."

"What is it that gives him difficulty?" he asked.

"Wait!" said Pansy, an unbelieving expression on her face. "You're going to help him? In Muggle Studies?"

"Yes."

"That's very unlike you, Draco," she said. "What are you going to do?"

"Suddenly," he said in a slightly-annoyed voice. "Even my own evil minions suspects my every little bit of good deed."

That bit of drama did not work for Pansy. She stared at him, hard and long. "You really are up to something, aren't you? Why don't you let us in on the fun? Is it about the Mudblood?"

Draco blanked out. _Should anyone actually be in on the fun except him? And the case is, he's not even in on the fun just yet..._ "What do you think?" he hedged.

"Yes."

Shifting from affectionate-Draco to normal-Draco, he said, "Well, you could speculate all you want. What is mine is mine alone. What yours is, we'll see about that but on a general basis, it's mine, too."

Pansy rolled her eyes, too used to Draco's shifting moods and his tongue. She shoved the Muggle Studies book off her lap and said to him, "Since you're here now, you can help Goyle, here. He and you should spend quality time together." With that, she left for the Girls' Dormitories.

Draco sat at the lounge chair that Pansy vacated and stared at Goyle for some time. "Where's Crabbe?" he asked.

"Kitchens. He was hungry," grunted Goyle, leafing through the pages of his book, which he got from the floor.

"That's no surprise. So, where did you and Pansy leave off?" he asked, taking the book from Goyle.

"Muggle clothes."

He fingered through the Table of Contents and found the page for Muggle Clothing. "Here. It says that Muggles don't wear robes outside their houses." He looked up at Goyle, who didn't seem to be paying attention. "Do you think that you could keep that in mind?"

"Yes. Muggles don't wear clothes." Goyle sounded so convinced of himself that Draco had to check the passage he read a few moments earlier. "No, Goyle. They do wear clothes."

Goyle looked like he thought Draco was off his rockers. He went on to defend his statement. "But Draco they don't wear robes. If you see me not wearing robes, then I'm naked!"

Draco grimaced at the picture Goyle presented him. Now, he was confident that Crabbe and Goyle should always be together. They don't seem as to be this stupid when they're together. They support each other. Like padded brassieres and really small breasts, he added peevishly to himself.

"Goyle, they're muggles. That's the reason why some of our kind take Muggle Studies. Wizards live differently from them so you can't go around comparing our lifestyles with them."

He didn't seem to be able to take all of that information in.

"Let's do this slowly, all right?" he asked, after heaving a huge sigh. "Repeat after me. Muggles are different from wizards."

"Muggles are different from wizards."

"Muggles are not like wizards."

"Muggles are not like wizards."

"Muggles don't wear robes."

"Muggles don't wear robes."

_That seemed too easy_, thought Draco to himself suspiciously. "Now, Goyle, what do Muggles wear?"

"Nothing."

His face fell. _And_ _that, folks, brings us back to zilch._

"Draco," Goyle called. "I don't think this is working."

Rather astute of him, isn't it? "Goyle, I think I know someone who could help you. But first, we need to get her convinced."

He looked confused but that was all right. If his face showed any comprehension at all, Draco was sure he'd have apoplexy.

* * *

"Hermione!" Ron called as he entered the Gryffindor Common Room, Harry by his side. "We missed you at dinner. Where've you been?"

"Oh, I didn't notice the time. I was at the library, didn't I tell you? I was doing research for a homework in Ancient Runes."

"Right. Well, you left this with Harry." He handed her the list he made.

Hermione took the paper, looked at it, and brought out another piece of parchment from her bag. "Here. This time, you read."

Ron read it, while Harry peered behind him (no small task, since Ron was considerably taller than Harry was).

**_List of Things to Say to Ron when He Shows his List_**

_1. No, Ron._

_2. It would be better if you use your time doing homework instead of thinking of ways to annoy Malfoy._

_3. He will not listen._

_4. Ron!_

_5. Ron, I am not saying anything under the second part!_

Ron looked up disappointedly. "Does this mean that you adamantly refuse to even say a few words of my list to Malfoy?"

Hermione, then, started to point out that it was alright with her except that the second part was too obnoxious for her tastes when Ron reconsidered, "I guess the first part is nice but the other sounds a lot better."

"No, Ron."

"Please, Hermione," said Ron imploringly. "How about if you try it one time? You know, with me and Harry, your bestest best friends in the world, as spectators."

She gazed at him, mind in a jumble of "no way's", "I don't think so's" and "you are being annoying" when she heard herself say in a resigned voice, "Okay."

"Thanks," he gave her a toothy-grin. "I just know that you love me, 'Mione."

She shook her head at him, amused. "What's wrong Harry?"

"I was just thinking. Malfoy's acting odd. And his father is in Azkaban serving his sentence for being a Death Eater. Do you think it's got something to do with that?"

Hermione narrowed her eyes at Harry, scrutinizing him. "What do you mean? That Malfoy could be, like, part of a Junior Death Eater's Club or something?"

"Could be. Voldemort"--Ron flinched--"could be organizing a new army since his Death Eaters, at least those I named, are now in Azkaban. He is, after all, planning to come back."

"So, Malfoy must be doing this as something of a task to You-Know-Who," said Ron.

"No, I don't think so," said Hermione after a few moments of thinking the situation through. "If that were the case, wouldn't he have commenced his plan earlier this year? And he keeps drawing attention to himself. That isn't exactly what an effective minion of the dark does."

Harry frowned. "Sometimes, Hermione, you make me feel so daft."

Silence, then. No one knew what to say.

"What are we going to do with these lists now?" asked Ron after some time, eyeing the two pieces of parchment laid on the table where Hermione was doing her work.

"We could just leave them here," said Hermione, packing her things. "I'm beat. I want to lie in bed and sleep. Those lists will go unnoticed. And anyway, I'll be up early tomorrow to continue this Arithmancy homework. Maybe caffeine will revitalize me."

Harry and Ron agreed and they said their goodnights. 


	3. Conversations with a Slytherin

Disclaimer: Harry Potter and all related things part of this piece of fiction is not mine.

HALLOWEEN MADNESS

(Courtesy of Draco Malfoy)

Chapter 3: CONVERSATIONS WITH A SLYTHERIN

When Hermione awoke the following morning, she went straight to the Great Hall after donning herself in her school robes and getting her bag.

The place was empty when she arrived and upon having herself sat at the Gryffindor Table, Dobby appeared, a wide smile on his face. "Hello, Miss. Is you wanting anything this morning?"

"Good morning, Dobby. I'll appreciate coffee, thank you," she replied, returning the smile.

Dobby bowed at her and retreated to the Kitchens to get Hermione's coffee.

Blessed silence followed after that. Hermione decided to take out her Arithmancy notes and start solving for the problem she left the night before. Deeply absorbed with the problem, she did not notice Draco Malfoy dragging himself towards the Slytherin tables.

"Hullo, Hermione!" he called out in a slurred voice once he was seated, and promptly thumping his head on the table.

She momentarily looked up from the book to him, watched him closely with one brow raised, and said in a loud voice, "Malfoy, seems like you're not much of a morning person. What are you doing up this early?"

He replied in muffled tones: "Wanted to catch you alone."

Hermione paused as she pondered on what Malfoy said. To her it sounded like gibberish. She really did not hear a word he said. One, he was too far. Two, his mouth was on the table.

Dobby came with a steaming cup of coffee for Hermione in that moment.

"Here you go, Miss," he said, handing her the cup. "Is you wanting anything else?"

"No, not anything in particular actually," Hermione mused. "Why don't you go and ask your former enslaver, Draco Malfoy by name, if he needs anything," she stared at him at the other side of the hall. "He seems to be in dire need of anything that you could offer."

"All right, Miss. But is you not feeling sick? You is Harry Potter's best friend. Why is you concerned about Master Malfoy?" he asked, puzzlement in his face.

"I take Care for Magical Creatures as a class. I have learned to have compassion for isolated, poor creatures like that pillock over there," she replied.

"Master Malfoy, sir," called Dobby. "It is your old house-elf, Dobby, sir. Dobby is being sent by Miss to ask if you is needing anything."

"Hello, Dobby," said Draco, removing his face from the table, still feeling slothful. "I want caffeine, Dobby. Do you have anything with strong caffeine content?" he asked, slowly, sifting his words so that they sound coherent enough.

Dobby looked thoughtful for a moment. "Dobby has coffee, Master Malfoy, sir."

"Coffee," Malfoy repeated. "Yes. Coffee," he said, sounding blissful at the realization that coffee did contain caffeine. "Please bring me some coffee."

After Dobby has come back from the kitchen once more and gave Draco his cup, he gulped the content down greedily. Invigorated by the bout of caffeine in his nerves, Draco proceeded to shout at Hermione.

"What are you doing?"

Hermione did not look up, unlike the last time, as she replied, "Arithmancy, not that it matters to you, Malfoy."

At the pretense of peering over her work (which was quite impossible considering that they were too far apart), he commented, "Why don't you let some poor Ravenclaw get the top spot this year? You really are ruining their "smart" image."

She didn't look up, nor did she reply to that.

"Am I supposed to take that as I'm being ignored?"

"For the most part, yeah," muttered Hermione under her breath.

"I am not so certain I could take this much rejection. After all, girls flock around me just to get my attention. I charm all of them. My Adonis-like appearance has captivated the hearts of many ladies in this school. And yet, a Mudblood who really is not all that beautiful turns me down. And I rhymed," he added sounding bemused.

"You sure do have close affiliations with Greek mythological characters," said Hermione conversationally after his long speech. "You've got Adonis _and _Narcissus. Isn't that just grand?"

"Narcissus?" he echoed. "What of him? The golden looks that he so fell in love with?"

"Thought it was obvious that I was talking about too much self-esteem."

"Oh that," he said, disappointed. "I fancied for a moment there that I've swayed you into believing that I am indeed perfect."

Hermione shook her head in disbelief at him and remembered her conversation with her friends the night before. _What really had happened in such a short period of time to have Malfoy this...un-Malfoy-ish? _She decided to ask this question out loud.

"You don't need to know," he replied, amusement disappearing from his face. The familiar nuance was back in his voice.

She shrugged and let the matter off. If he didn't want to tell her, it was fine. At least that question brought about the old Malfoy, no telling why she even wanted him back.

Silence.

"So," he said, striking up another conversation as the other went down dead. "What exactly about Arithmancy are you doing?"

Hermione turned to look at him, brows raised. "What do you know about Arithmancy, Malfoy?"

"I happen to _take _Arithmancy, Grange--Hermione."

She furrowed her brows in a thoughtful manner. Malfoy was with her in Arithmacy? She vaguely recalled Malfoy talking the other day that they competed for top grades in Arithmancy but paid no special heed to it. There were too few non-Ravenclaws in Arithmancy for her to pay actual notice to. Usually, she sat alone in one part of the classroom and the Ravenclaws just fill the room in.

"You don't know I take that subject, do you?" asked Malfoy, catching on after a few more seconds of silence.

_How very perceptive, _thought Hermione dryly to herself.

"Now, my ego is completely, utterly deflated," he said, sounding honestly forlorn.

"I get it!" she exclaimed, when something came back to her. "That's why those Ravenclaws the other day looked at you like you were some kind of god! You're probably _good_ at Arithmancy!"

"What?" Malfoy asked sounding confused. "My name is always on the lists of top students per class. You don't look farther than your name, do you, Granger?" he sounded malicious.

"I do, too!" she exclaimed, sounding defensive. "I look for Harry's and Ron's names and skip all the others in between."

"Not even embarrassed about that, are we?" he drawled lazily as he watched her with mild interest.

Hermione ignored that remark, and continued with her Arithmancy work, willing herself to concentrate more on it than on Draco Malfoy. She released a thankful sigh as a couple of minutes passed and Draco had yet to talk. But her action was soon proven to be premature as Malfoy began to open his noise mechanism once more.

"You know," Malfoy started, making Hermione want to bash him with her notebook.

_Oh, bother! _she thought pushing her Arithmancy notes away from her, knowing that she won't be able to work as long as Malfoy was set on chit-chatting her.

"Since you are so bent on ignoring me and my golden looks, I shall talk to myself out loud in hopes of annoying the little, filthy mudblood that you are." Hermione rolled her eyeballs ceiling wards at that. "Hmmm...What topic should I use to start my conversations with _moi_?"

There was a thoughtful pause from him after that.

Then, "I know. My father, Potty told everyone, is a Death Eater. I'm pretty sure he is, er, was. Hey, Granger, what would you say if I tell you that my father, is a _reformed _Death Eater?"

Hermione clasped her fingers together, laid her elbows on the table and said, "I'll say that you are a downright liar, Malfoy."

"Well, at least, I know you have enough trust in me. So, anyway, since Potter told on everyone in the You-know-who congregation--that's my special name for them, you know--most Slytherins now do not have their parents at home. You really should pity them."

She did not reply to that. She had thought about those things during the summer but convinced herself that those people wanted to do what they had done. It wasn't anybody's fault but theirs. Instead she asked, "Why do I have a feeling that you are excluding yourself from the lot?"

"Because I'm special. And you really don't need to know much other than that."

Hermione knew that there was something about Malfoy completely different (other than the fact that he was Mr. Congeniality with her all of a sudden). For all it was worth, she's going to have to pry out that information out of him. She will if it explains Malfoy's sudden impulse to get friendly with her.

Before anything was further said, the doors leading to the Great Hall burst open and a sea of students clad in their school uniform walked in, talking with each other.

She quickly spotted Harry and Ron, who were hurrying towards her. They probably saw Malfoy, she thought to herself.

"Good, morning," she greeted them with a smile, sending Malfoy a surreptitious glare (at least as secretly as possible with her friends watching) as he rolled his eyes at the three of them.

"Hello, Hermione," said Harry, keeping a wary eye on Malfoy, who had the gall to continue watching her despite the fact that everyone must be aware of what he was doing. "Was that prat bothering you again?"

"Never mind him," she said. "Come pull up yourselves a chair."

"I don't trust Malfoy," said Ron suddenly when he and Harry had sat down.

"Nobody does," said Hermione.

"And that is not very assuring when he's got his sights on you," said Harry worriedly. "You have to be careful."

"I will," she replied and gave them her friends a reassuring smile.

* * *

Double potions with the Slytherins in the afternoon was never fun. Especially if Snape was in the mood to punish the Gryffindors for being Gryffindors, and/or for having Harry Potter in their group.

"Today," Professor Snape said, "we shall be making a potion that shall increase the aging process in the human body." He gave Neville a disgusted look. "As this is a very complicated potion, needing the most adept care, I'm sure some of you will be needing help in its preparation, so the class shall be divided into pairs."

Hermione knew her stand when the class divides into pairs. Harry and Ron were always with each other. She saw at the corner of her eyes that Harry moved in closer to Ron but Snape spoke again.

"No, Potter, don't move. I have done the honors of partnering each and everyone of you with your matches when it comes to this class."

"That means Snape is really serious about this torture business," Harry muttered.

"What was that, Mr. Potter?" Snape asked, his ears bionic-like where Harry was concerned. "Ten points from Gryffindor for your insolence."

Snape started calling out names.

"Zabini and Finnigan."

"Bullstrode and Thomas."

"Parkinson and Weasely."

Ron paled as Pansy Parkinson glared at him, as if it were his fault that they were partnered with each other.

"Crabbe and Longbottom."

Neville groaned. Now, he was sure to fail Potions with the lowest grade ever to have been given out to a student.

"Goyle and Potter."

Harry knew better to react. Snape would catch him again. But he thought, _I really am that bad in Potions?_

The list went on until everyone in class seemed to have been called except Hermione. She raised her hand as Snape was putting the parchment away.

"Yes, Granger?"

"Sir, I haven't been called."

"Yes, and hasn't been Mr. Malfoy."

"Malfoy?" she repeated.

"Yes. Malfoy. Do you have any problems with that?"

"No, sir." She shook her head, and looked at Malfoy's direction. The annoying, sodding pillock was smirking that trademark Malfoy smirk at her.

She narrowed her eyes at him, and proceeded to collect her things to sit beside him.

"Hello, again, Granger," he greeted as Hermione took a seat beside him.

"Sod off."

"That's not a very nice greeting to someone who shall help you with your Potions grade, is it?"

"Malfoy," she started through gritted teeth. "Why don't you just get the bloody ingredients and I will prepare the cauldron and other materials?"

Malfoy shrugged. "All right. Works for me."

He sauntered away, then.

As Hermione began with arranging their things on the work table, Ron stopped beside Hermione as he whispered, "Hey. You all right with Malfoy being your partner?"

"Sure," she said, smiling at him. "Hey, Ron," she said, after looking at the ingredient he had in his hands. "You need pomegranate juice not salamander blood1."

Ron eyed the liquid flask in his hand. "Oh, right." And then he went off to exchange it with the right ingredient.

When Malfoy got back, Hermione had already set the materials. She stared at the board for further instructions. "Let's see," she murmured. "Cut the lugworm crawlers into equal pieces and add with rapeseed oil in the cauldron after exactly fifteen seconds."

"I'll cut," Malfoy volunteered closely followed by a well-meaning insult the Malfoys had long been able to apply. "I know I can do this better than you. I'd rather not risk my grade and my health when we test it."

Rather than take the chance of Snape catching them and deducting more points off Gryffindor, Hermione let Malfoy do what he wanted and moved on to the other instructions.

"Pound the lacewing to fine powder and add to the mixture in the cauldron."

She did as the instructions told, with Malfoy watching and helping with the processes without much more complaint nor insult. Halfway through the completion, Hermione was sure that Snape was not jesting with them when he said it was complicated. The potion needed specific timing and good coordination. She wasn't all too sure if she this was going to be one of her best if she had worked on it alone. And much as she hated to admit it, Malfoy was a huge help.

Soon enough their mixture was a dark green liquid giving off a foul stench.

"Is this really supposed to smell like this?" Malfoy asked, his hand covering his noise as he eyed the cauldron disdainfully.

Hermione stepped in beside him and said, "We still need to add scallion leaves. That's the last ingredient. The leaves will remove the stench and turn the potion a slightly pink color and then we stir counterclockwise thrice."

Malfoy nodded and went on with the task. Moments later, after the deed was done, the results were as expected.

Snape came over to them and said, "Good. Now, Granger I want you to tell me what color the potion was before the last ingredient was added."

Hermione, then proceeded to tell the Potions Master what he wanted.

Nodding at her answer, Snape turned to Malfoy, "And what, Mr. Malfoy, would be the function of the powdered lacewings?"

Hermione grew worried that Malfoy cannot answer the question.

But to her surprise, Malfoy replied with ease. "The lacewings, sir, help rejuvenate the other ingredients. In short, the lacewings are used so that the potion could last longer."

"Very good, Malfoy. That's five points to Slytherin. I want the two of you to test your potion. Drink only a few drops so that you'll be only a few years older than you are now."

Next Snape went to was Harry and Goyle's cauldron. "Potter, what is that murk in your cauldron?"

"Professor Snape," he said through the cloth of his robe that was covering his face, trying to keep the fumes coming from their potion off his nose. "Goyle stirred the mixture without looking at the instructions."

"Blaming a fellow student for your own incompetence, eh, Potter?" he said, peering in the cauldron. "Seems to me that what you said is just about right. No, not about Goyle but with the wrong stirring. I want you to drink three drops of that, Potter."

A look of protest passed by Harry's face for the shortest of time.

Hermione said, "Professor Snape, I, for one, don't think it justified that Harry has to drink the Potion when it was all Goyle's fault that their potion isn't up to snuff."

"Granger, who is the Potions Master here?"

"You are, Professor," she said. "But that Potion that they concocted could have really harmful side effects."

"And you know the subject better than I do, is that it?"

"No, Professor Snape."

"Then, Granger, I suggest that you proceed to the task that I assigned you and let Potter bear the consequences of his actions," he said, and left them to move on to another pair.

"Thank you, Hermione," she saw Harry mouth at her. "Don't mind me."

She nodded but still could not let the worry off of her face.

"I'm sure Potty could manage," said Malfoy beside her, taking a few drops of the potion on a separate container. "Snape will not let one of his students die. Sure, he could have them stuck in the Infirmary for quite a long time but that isn't the same as dying."

Somehow, Hermione did not find herself reassured by that.

"Here," Malfoy handed her the container he was working on.

"No way, Malfoy. If we are drinking this potion, we are going to do it at the same time."

He shrugged and got a container for himself and dripped the potion on it.

"On the count of three, then, Granger."

But before their lips even touched the small containers, there was a commotion from the other students and Hermione heard Ron call," Harry!"

Hermione's gaze darted from Malfoy to where Harry was.

And what she saw definitely was not good.

In place of Harry was a toddler. A toddler wearing Harry Potter's school uniform. A toddler who had Harry's unruly black hair, Harry's green eyes, Harry's spectacles--

_Merlin..._

One did not have to be intelligent to understand what had happened.

* * *

Notes:

1- In OotP, while they were in Potions class, Hermione reminded Harry to put in salamander blood and not pomegranate juice. Ron, in this instance, is now reminded by Hermione to put in the latter.


	4. Spot the Difference

Disclaimer: If someone asked me of my wishes, one of them would be to own Harry Potter and Co. but as it is, I don't even have a someone who would ask me my wishes... Well, this is a frustrating life.

HALLOWEEN MADNESS (Courtesy of Draco Malfoy)

Chapter 4: SPOT THE DIFFERENCE

Hermione quickly laid her container on their work table, hiked up her robes and rushed forward towards Harry. Ron was already beside Harry when she reached him.

"Harry," Ron was saying. "Are you all right, mate?"

Harry's voice was small and fitting a four year old. "I don't know. I feel a little dizzy."

Hermione said, "Er, Harry, are you not feeling the draft?"

Harry looked down at his body and the ill-fitting robes. "Right. What do you suppose I do?"

She brought out her wand, muttered a spell and Harry's school robes then fit him.

Right then Snape came. "What do you think are you all doing, watching Potter?"

Nobody replied but they everyone scurried back to their places before they got Snape angry. "Granger? Weasley?"

"Professor, what of Harry?" Hermione dared ask.

"What of him? I don't see much difference. Still the spoiled little brat."

Several Slytherins snickered and Hermione was quick to shoot them sharp looks. "Professor, Harry should be made his normal age again."

"And why is that, Granger?"

She didn't know how to answer that question without seeming to be too overprotective of her friend.

"Well? If you aren't going to say anything, I suggest that you go back to work."

Sighing, Hermione looked at Harry. "Will you be alright?"

"Yes."

She and Ron exchanged looks and went back to their partners.

"Potter looks cute," Malfoy commented when Hermione got back to him.

"This isn't a laughing matter, Malfoy," said Hermione hotly. "There could be something _else _that is going around Harry. We don't even know if that potion he drank could make him even younger."

"I don't care, really," said Malfoy nonchalantly. "On the count of three, Granger," he handed her the container.

"One," she started.

"Two."

"Three."

Hermione raised the container to her mouth. The liquid tasted foul and she swallowed quickly if not to ward off the awful taste.

"Do I look any different?" asked Malfoy to her.

"No. Do I?"

He scrutinized her appearance. "I don't think so."

"Let's wait. The effects probably don't come out instantaneously."

Just after she said this, she felt something warm beginning to swell at the pit of her stomach and growing until she could feel it even to the tips of her fingers. "I think the change is starting."

Malfoy just kept staring at her, interest beginning to show on his face. "I must say that it is."

Was that just a compliment?

"How about in me?" asked Malfoy moments later.

Hermione noticed that Malfoy looked taller...or maybe that was just her imagination... But his shoulders...the berth seemed wider. The face features seemed to have grown more mature with the help of the potion. The other changes must be more than physical, for she could not see any more of them. He was still lean, hanging on to his Seeker-type built; he haven't yet lost his pallor and his hair color was still the same pale blond.

"Not much change in you," she told him, and proceeded to tell Malfoy what she observed. "At least, none so noticeable. How about on me?"

"You must see yourself in the mirror," he said. "I think Pansy has one. I'm going to borrow it. Wait for me."

Baffled at Malfoy's hasty departure, she frowned. _Why does she need a mirror? Was the change that bad?_

Malfoy handed her the hand mirror as he came.

When she held it up to her face, she was sure there was someone else reflected...someone who looked something like her but with more refined features. If she hadn't drank the potion, she might think that it was an enchanted mirror that showed whom among of her relatives she looked most like. A distant cousin maybe--probably removed more times than it is even possible--that she wasn't aware of.

"Hello, there," said the reflection.

Great. A talking one. Just what she needed. She threw Malfoy a look of pure contempt for having given her that type of mirror.

"What? Pansy likes to be praised even by something that looks exactly like her," he said with a nonchalant facade.

"Well, aren't you just a pretty thing. What with that long wavy brown hair of yours and your wonderful expressive eyes. Those distinctive browns of yours you have for eyes are too expressive for any words to describe... Oh, and look at that mouth..."

The mirror continued to coo even as Hermione started setting it down.

"Well, this isn't exactly what I expected."

"You tell me," said Malfoy. "But this is interesting, you have to admit."

"So, does this mean that if I want to turn into a ravishing beauty with a body that a lot of people would envy, I have to wait until I grow older?" she asked and then adding, "I daresay that those words didn't at all sound like they came from me."

Malfoy, a thoughtful look on his face, suggested, "Maybe you did something with your face, with magic, I mean."

"Possible," replied Hermione. "But why?"

"You want to look good," said Malfoy in a manner that sounded like the answer had been so obvious right from the very start.

"Is that supposed to imply that I don't?" she asked with a saccharine smile plastered on her face, hoping to get something out of Malfoy and his ploy.

Malfoy did not look ready to answer that. "So...do we call the professor now and ask for him to grade our work?"

"If we must," she replied with a sigh. "But you do it. You're his pet."

Malfoy grimaced. "You make it sound like he were some sort of pedophile and I enjoy his advances on me."

Hermione gaped at him but Malfoy was already starting to call Snape before she could tell him anything else.

"Good work," said Snape after examining them but he was obviously avoiding Hermione's general direction as if the potion was all Malfoy's work. "I want you to bottle your potion, label it and put it on my desk."

"Yes, sir," the two of them said together.

Once done, Hermione looked at Malfoy and said, "Would you mind much if I brought Harry here? Goyle could trample him to the ground. What with your friend being quite bright and all."

He didn't say anything to that; just quirked his brows at her and sat down on an available chair.

Hermione cautiously approached Harry and Goyle. "Harry."

Harry looked up to her. "Hermione," he squeaked happily.

"How are you doing?" she asked, wearily watching Goyle in her peripheral view, who was looking at Harry as if he were some sort of window display.

He looked down at himself. "Considering my situation, rather well, actually. Goyle just keeps staring stupidly at me."

"Would you like to go to our workplace? I'm sure Malfoy wouldn't insult you in your state."

But Hermione soon found herself wrong. Malfoy kept on harping about Harry being cute as a kid and wishing that Harry hadn't grown up so he wouldn't have been an ugly git. He also kept quoting Snape about the 'spoiled brat' statement. All in all, having Harry over their workplace was a bad idea.

Harry tried his best to ignore Malfoy by letting his gaze wander about the room. If it were any consolation, he wasn't the only one who drank a potion gone wrong. Some of the students were doddering in old age, some shrunk to half their sizes and quite an unfortunate few turned into infants. The few people who managed to get the potion right, were busy with helping their friends out. Ron, he noticed, wasn't one of those who needed immediate attention but the thing was, he didn't look any different at all.

"So, Potter," Malfoy said, starting another bout of his insults. "Do you prefer sweets to chocolates?"

Harry didn't bother answering that and continued to roam his eyes.

"Oh, wait." He paused dramatically. "I forgot. You probably didn't have the money to buy yourself anything at all."

Hermione, with a strangled sigh, said, "Malfoy, don't you have any other better thing to do other than bother Harry?"

"Yeah," Harry piped in.

He took time to show them that he was _pretending _to think. "No. Bothering him is so much fun. Why should I give it up?"

"I figured you'll say that."

"Potter, will you kindly enlighten me of the wondrous things that go on in the mind of an innocent toddler?"

"Of course, Malfoy. Right now, I'm thinking that I want to strangle you. Probably kick you around a bit, then make sure you're face won't be all the same when I'm through. How's that sound to you?"

Harry tried his best to sound vicious; probably a tad bit venomous. But coming from a toddler with a small voice and a lisp that made him hard to be understood, the effect was a bit off of what he was aiming for.

Malfoy smirked at him. "Will you repeat that, Potter?"

The Boy Who Became A Toddler was saved the trouble of having to answer Malfoy (or having to trounce him, which would have been futile), Snape announced the end of class. "And for those of you who had failed to make the proper potion, and are suffering some effects--" Malfoy patted Harry's shoulder at this point-- "I suggest that you go to Madame Pomfrey for antidotes."

Hermione stood up and helped Harry off a stool. "We should go to Madame Pomfrey."

Harry nodded his assent.

Ron approached them, keeping an eye on the still smug looking Slytherin. "Harry, to the Infirmary, then?"

Draco said to Ron, "Weasel, would you mind fetching my two sidekicks? We'll love to go with you daring Gryffindors."

"Do it yourself, Malfoy," Ron snarled back.

"Oh no. I leave the honors to you. I know you long to do me some sort of service despite your rough demeanor."

"How can you be such an arse all the time?" Ron asked him scathingly.

"Practice, Weasel, practice. Ah, my two loyal friends," he said, Goyle approaching, carrying a miniature Crabbe in his arms. "I see Longbottom has made the usual mess."

Crabbe mewled.

"Smart, very smart," commented Hermione. "I now understand why you long for actual conversation, Malfoy...even if it were coming from a mudblood like I am."

Goyle grunted.

Malfoy just remained looking smug. No point trying to figure him out.

* * *

"Oh, Gran--Hermione, would you be so kind to tutor poor Goyle, here, in Muggle Studies?"

They were sitting quietly at the Infirmary along with a dozen other students who had friends in there, waiting for Harry and Crabbe to come out when Malfoy popped in the question.

Ron and Hermione stared at him at this.

"Did I hear you correctly?"

"If you heard something about my harem of beautiful women and my wonderful singing voice--"

Ron cut him. "Oh, shut it, you git."

"But Draco," Goyle put in. "She's a mudblood."

"Look at that," said Ron with fake glee. "He can speak!"

Goyle failed to hear the sarcasm. "My father will kill me--"

"If you fail this subject again," Malfoy put in for him. "Face it, if there is someone here who could teach you things about being a Muggle, it's her."

"Nice of you to own up to the fact that she's best for the job," said Ron, looking smug at Malfoy.

"Of course. She and I will be going out on Halloween. I must make sure everyone thinks she is worthy of me."

"We are not!" snapped Hermione even before Malfoy could finish. "Malfoy, I'm a Gryffindor, you're a Slytherin. I'm a Muggle-born but in your terms, that will be Mudblood. You're a Pure Blood. I like the things that probably won't interest you and everyone knows I am best friends with Harry Potter and you are a budding Death Eater, waiting for your initiation rights! Does that sound like something to you?" She drew in a huge breath after that.

"Yeah. It sounded like you have given this some thought. Am I really that important to you? That is just so sweet."

"Ugh!"

Ron looked like he was ready to lunge in on Malfoy any moment. Good thing Madame Pomfrey came out, Harry, Crabbe and a lot of other students from Potions class in toll, muttering, "Honestly, Professor Snape has to stop doing this. Every year, this happens. If this keeps up, I have to suggest that he adds to the syllabus the antidote itself."

They all thanked Madame Pomfrey and took their hurried leave out of the Infirmary.

Before they all got separated, Malfoy said, "The favor, Granger. Think about it."

Hermione just looked at him, incredulous, shook her head and walked off, leaving Malfoy shrugging.

* * *

"Draco, are you serious about having that know-it-all Gryffindor tutor me in Muggle Studies?" Goyle asked Malfoy as they entered the Slytherin Common Room. 

"Do I look like I wasn't?"

"Well, no but couldn't I find anyone else to help me? Like you, for instance."

These were the times he wished that he had better friends. In a long suffering voice he told Crabbe and Goyle. "What I know about Muggle-related things could figure as much as what I know at having morals."

Crabbe frowned in thought. "That isn't bad at all, is it?"

He sighed, and sat down at one of the comfortable green chairs. "It is. If you paid any attention at all to me, you'll know that I haven't learned all that much morals."

Blaise Zabini walked in on them at that instant, stopped in his tracks when he heard Malfoy say that, and grinned at them. "Is it reveal our deepest dirtiest character-traits day? I've a lot to confess."

"Zabini."

"Malfoy."

"What are you doing here?" he asked, irritated at the interruption.

"This is the Slytherin Common Room," Zabini retorted pointedly. "I am a Slytherin, you know."

"Yes, yes," he said with a wave of his hand. "Now, will you leave me alone with Crabbe and Goyle?"

"Malfoy, I want to know what you intend to do with Granger. The thing you did the other night was fun while we were there since it annoyed the hell out of those goody Gryffindors, but now it's just suspicious. You are too obvious, if you don't know."

He kept his mouth shut.

"Malfoy, if your father in Azkaban gets wind of what you are doing here...you know the consequences, right?" Blaise's gaze was probing.

Malfoy opened his mouth once, then closed it.

Zabini took the chance to say, "You know what? While you're at trying to persuade the Muggle-born Gryffindor, why don't you put in a good word for me to Ginny?"

"Ginny, who?" Malfoy asked, his brows furrowing.

"The youngest Weasley."

He stared for there was nothing else to do. Blaise Zabini fancied a Gryffindor--and a Weasley at that.

Zabini said, "Well, what are you planning, really?"

Malfoy sighed once more. "Nothing. I just want to infiltrate Gryffindor Tower, gather all their secrets and make sure that we get this year's House Cup. Oh, and be able to spread nasty gossips about what they do there."

"In short, you want to make friends with them."

Malfoy flushed. "Stop putting words into my mouth."

One brow raised, he said, "And you're going to accomplish that by calling them names, insulting all of them in front of the whole school _and_ telling them they're not worth you?"

"Exactly." And in a more defensive voice, "You overheard me. I haven't got all that much morals. Etiquette is what my parents focused on."

"Draco, I think you've digressed enough here," Goyle put in.

When did Goyle learn that sentence? Draco asked himself. "Goyle, it is all up to Granger now if you fail or pass this subject. Suffice it to say that she will have to agree or you shall be coming back next year to find yourself the object of ridicule for failing _Muggle Studies_."

The emphasis put Goyle in his place. He grudgingly assented to Malfoy's plan.

Crabbe scratched his head and because he was smart enough, he didn't ask any question out loud.

* * *

Hours after the Potions fiasco, Hermione soon found herself looking normal again. She decided to hurry off to the library to borrow a book when her friends cornered her. 

"Please, Hermione, you have to bring one of us with you to the library with you. Malfoy might be there to accost you again."

"Accost?" echoed Hermione. "Isn't that too strong a word? Harry, I think you're worrying overmuch."

Harry was quick to refute her statement. "Hermione, Voldemort is out again. Malfoy's family has long been in league with him. We need to be vigilant about our defenses against them.

She snorted. "Be paranoid, more like it."

"You could call it whatever you like," said Ron. "Harry is still right no matter what angle you look at it."

"Fine," she said, annoyed at them. "Do what you have to do to determine who comes with me. Draw lots or something."

"We can't both go with you?"

"No."

Harry and Ron settled this by playing Rock, Paper, Scissors ("Oh, too manly", Hermione had said sarcastically). After several tries, Harry finally prevailed.

"Well, come on," Hermione told him, slinging her bag over her shoulders. "We don't have all day, you know. The next DA meeting is today, if you've forgotten."

Harry and Ron stared at each other blankly.

Hermione sighed. "I knew it."

The book she was looking for was nowhere to be found. It would be really useful for their next meeting in DA if it were located. She could have sworn that she saw the book the other day before Malfoy bothered her.

Chancing to look up, she saw Malfoy...and her book.

She looked up at the ceiling, and said out loud, "The fates are conspiring against me."

Malfoy smirked, and slowly walked towards her. "Really, Granger, resorting to talking to ceilings now, are we?"

"Really, Malfoy," she said in the same tone he used, "talking to Mudbloods....what a shame."

That should put him in his place, Hermione thought to herself smugly. But of course, that was too much hope, she had to agree, when Malfoy just gave her an impertinent look.

"I know you want this book."

"You can have it, you know. I won't be very likely taking it away from you when you're not looking."

"I know but that doesn't change the fact that you still want it."

Exasperated, she turned his back on him, deciding to find another book to help with their meetings.

Harry appeared from behind a shelf, startling Hermione. "Harry!"

"Oh, hi. I was just looking through the books about Quidditch," Harry's voice trailed off. Hermione knew he had seen Malfoy. "Harry," she started, "Malfoy has a right to be here."

"Yes, Potty, Hermione is right."

"Malfoy," Harry growled, "don't come near Hermione anymore, you hear. Or I'll--I'll--"

"Go to Professor Dumbledore and tell him that my father is a Death Eater. Oh, wait. You've done that already. How about...go to Professor Dumbledore and tell him that _I_ am a Death Eater. What do you think?"

Harry narrowed his eyes at Malfoy.

"Speechless? While you're at it, let me tell you something. I have decided that you and that Lovegood girl look good together. The weird and the weirder."

Harry flushed both in embarrassment and anger. "So? Why are you bothering with Luna anyway?"

"Oh," said Malfoy and Hermione knew he was genuinely interested now. "I see I've hit a sensitive spot here. Do tell me the juicy tidbits of your affair with Loony Luna."

"Don't call her Loony Luna!" Harry snapped. "And I don't know what affair you're talking about."

Malfoy just looked on. "Tell Weasel that Millicent Bulstrode fancies him and Zabini has taken into liking the little Weasel girl."

"Little Weasel girl?" Harry asked him blankly. "Who--?"

Malfoy snapped his fingers quite a few times, trying to remember Ginny's name. "Jenny or something."

"Ginny," Hermione corrected him.

"Precisely."

"Malfoy," started Hermione, "what is it to you if some Slytherins think that the Weasleys look good? You're not going to play Cupid are you?"

"No but I might if that will get you to come with me."

Hermione was incredulous. "Do you know what you're saying?"

He frowned. "Yeah. What makes you think that I don't?"

"Because you're thinking of pairing up Slytherins with Gryffindors, and saying that Harry Potter looks good with someone."

"Why shouldn't I do that?"

"Because you're Draco Malfoy. You either do things to make someone look bad or just to have things to your advantage. And a lot of times, it's a combination of both."

Draco said, "Well, I've changed."

"Try again."

"I-- want to be part of your group."

"What group?" Harry asked with a suspicious feeling that he shouldn't have had done so.

"I know you have meetings to practice your defensive and offensive magic in case of attacks coming from the Dark Lord," he replied quietly.

Harry and Hermione blanched.

"What are you talking about?" Harry asked slowly.

"Don't play innocent, Potter. You know what I'm talking about. I helped Umbridge to catch your group last term, if your Gryffindor minds would care to remember. Dumbledore was replaced by Umbridge as Hogwarts Headmaster because of you lot."

Incredulous, Hermione said, "And what makes you think that we will welcome you into our group--not that I claim that there truly is one nor do I disclaim it."

"I don't need to be welcomed," Malfoy told them, unperturbed. "I just need to be a member."

"Malfoy," Harry started. "I know that you are aware that we know that you are a follower of Voldemort. Why are we to trust you?"

"Because I give you my word."

"And your word is what good to us?"

"Just as much as my joining your group is," he answered simply. Returning to the first subject, he said, "Well, I'm given you my proposition. I trust that Grange--Hermione will use her clever mind to sift through my carefully worded offer."

Hermione raised a brow at him. "Malfoy, you've been calling me Mudblood since second year. And within a span of three days, I become 'Grange--Hermione'. What makes you think I'd happily have you as my friend?"

"Because I'm a Malfoy. Everyone loves me."

"Your modesty overwhelms me," Harry said, disgusted.

"So I've been told." He smirked. "Think of what I've said."


	5. Malfoy and the Tree

HALLOWEEN MADNESS (Courtesy of Draco Malfoy)

CHAPTER 5: MALFOY AND THE TREE

When the Gryffindors where stepping right into the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom, they were feeling slightly elated for, at the very least, their best teacher was back. Professor Lupin was allowed to return seeing as the scarcity of teachers who knew much of the subject seemed to have made its toll on Hogwarts and the students.

A lot of parents owled Professor Dumbledore to complain about his decision but were very kindly told of the circumstance and were very solicitously asked if they knew anyone competent enough to teach the Hogwarts students. No one replied to those owls sent by the Headmaster and no owls about the teacher assignment were received again (there were some proclaiming their endless love for several teachers of the school, though, but those weren't paid any much heed as the owls that came with weekly subscriptions to 'The Wizarding Bachelors').

Defense Against the Dark Arts for that particular day was about the Patronus Charm.

"Now, will anyone tell me what a Patronus does?"

Hermione's hand quickly shot into the air. "A Patronus is a spell that is used to ward off dementors and, at one time, a lethifold."

"Wouldn't have been able to say it better," said Lupin cheerfully. "Five points to Gryffindor. Now, I won't be expecting that all of you will be able to make a Patronus. This is after all Advanced Magic as I've told Mr. Potter before, beyond Ordinary Wizarding Level. But since the Dementors are gone and nowhere to be found, it is very likely that You Know Who could use them to attack. I deem that it is worth a try to teach you to defend yourselves."

He nodded at the class. "To be able to make a Patronus, the words to say are 'Expecto Patronum'. Everyone, repeat after me." The class did so. Then Lupin said, "Harry."

"Yes, Professor?"

"Please come up front and demonstrate a Patronus."

There was a rumble from the students. Those members of the D.A. knew Harry could make a corporeal Patronus and were only mildly surprised that Lupin knew about it. The others who didn't know about that looked at each other and whispered amongst themselves.

Feeling a mite worried that he would not be able to conjure up a happy memory, Harry stepped forward to join Professor Lupin, who in turn gave him an encouraging smile.

"Let's see. What else have I not told you? Well, the Patronus Charm acts as a positive force, something that protects you from the Dementors. This positive force is something that Dementors feed on but since the Patronus has no life, it acquires no damage unlike a human being." He stared at the deeply-interested students. "To be able to conjure a Patonus, you must be able to concentrate on a happy memory."

Harry concentrated. He needed a happy thought. His mind meandered along, and he remembered the day Sirius died...he shook his head. _No, not that..._

"Now, I have a boggart here. During our third year classes, I taught you about boggarts, didn't I? Well, now, Harry I want you to concentrate on the fear you felt when you first saw the Dementor. Otherwise..." Professor Lupin let his voice trail. The class and Harry knew the implications of that 'otherwise.'

Harry gulped visibly. He thought of a dementor and the awful feeling it felt when it was near him.

Professor Lupin looked at him. "You can do it, Harry. I know you can. And on one, two, three!" Professor Lupin released the latch on a drawer that was near Harry.

The boggart sprang forward in the form of a dementor, to his relief for the briefest moment, then he felt cold and as if something dark had engulfed him...the things he felt when he was near a dementor.

He focused some more and his thoughts landed on the day he won the Quidditch Cup for Gryffindor.

He shouted, "Expecto Patronum," but what came from his wand was a wispy smoke, much similar to those he managed when he was just starting to learn.

"Now, students, there are two kinds of Patronus," he heard Lupin say as he kept his Patronus. "For some wizards, the wand projection is something only of a shapeless, silvery mist but there is also a corporeal Patronus, which takes a particular figure."

Harry tried once more. "Expecto Patronum!"

And out came the galloping stag, successfully putting the boggart/dementor back inside the drawer.

"Well done Harry," Lupin congratulated him after quickly putting back the lock. "Now that's 10 points to Gryffindor for a job well done."

The class started to clap as they all stared in awe at Harry.

"Everyone up for trying the Patronus Charm?" Lupin asked the rest of the class in a jovial voice. "But of course, we shall practice without the boggart."

The class started to grow noisy with their excitement.

Before Harry reached his chair, Professor Lupin called his attention. "You could take a break. Walk around the grounds. Breathe in the fresh air. I know you need it. You know the subject anyway." He smiled at him. "Your father will really be proud of you."

Harry nodded once and sprinted out the classroom.

* * *

Harry found himself walking near the lake. The sun was up that particular day and it felt good to be alone; to be able to muse about what has been happening without anyone interrupting him.

He thought of what the war against Voldemort would bring him. Sure, it was a given that he will suffer...but will death follow?

He shook his head derisively at his own thoughts. He let out a strangled sigh as he thought some more. Then, something caught his eyes.

It was Malfoy, alone and seemingly...talking to a tree? His own observation ended on an incredulous note as he squinted towards Malfoy's direction.

He decided to walk slowly towards him. And more to his utter disbelief, Malfoy was _indeed _having a conversation with the aforementioned tree.

He heard him say, "Well, having to like a Muggle born like Granger would be quite a shock, to say the least, for my family, but not all that extraordinary. It's the genes you know," he said confidingly.

Harry stopped himself from laughing out loud, his problem now pushed too far in his mind to be even remembered. Malfoy might realise he has company. He gathered that like him, Malfoy just got there. From the looks of things, Malfoy and the tree were quite well acquainted. He sniggered inwardly.

"I had a cousin, from Narcissa's side of the family. She was sent to Durmstang, that's another Wizarding School, to inform you. Her name's Clarence. I know, I know it's a nasty common name. Clarence. Ha! Anyway, I digress. She came home after 6th year and announced she was pregnant by a _Muggle, _no less_. _You wouldn't believe the uproar she caused." Even as Malfoy was talking, his voice rising a pitch in his indignation. "And you know what else? I could've sworn she was a _he _before... Funny thing, really." He paused. "Oh, and that's not mentioning Father's second cousin, _he _works with one of the Weasleys, who is an accountant. Imagine that! Even those Muggle-loving people don't talk about that accountant!"

Harry was already shaking with suppressed mirth.

"You'd actually expect that my father and mother would accept my decision. At least Granger is a Witch. That's good. And she's very clever, no doubt."

Not able to help himself anymore, Harry laughed out loud.

Malfoy slowly looked at his direction, then just as slowly returned it back to the tree. He sat down on the grass. "Did you hear anything? I thought I did but that could just be the wind."

"Oh, I get it," said Harry, sitting next to him. "Even trees are smarter than your friends, huh?"

"Potter, what are you doing here?" he asked in an exasperated voice. "Will you leave me alone with this...tree." When Harry didn't bother leave, he said, "Bugger off!"

"Surprisingly, I want to call it a truce for fifteen minutes, at the most, with you," Harry told him. "I could bet I'm a better conversationalist than that tree."

"I happen to like talking to this tree," Draco told him crossly.

"Oh, come on, Malfoy," Harry began to cajole only to stop short. What was he doing?

"So, tree," Malfoy said. "How would you react if asked you out? I mean, with my dashing good looks and my versatility, I'd expect that you'd be thrilled. What? You are? Oh, that's good. Because Hermione, you know the girl I've been talking about, is suspicious of me. She isn't doing my ego any good."

"This is pathetic, Malfoy," Harry put in casually. "Why are you _really _here talking to a tree?"

Malfoy finally turned to him. "Potter, if you'll kindly remember, I am not your friend. So, please refrain from asking me these annoying questions."

"So, let's be friends for the next fifteen minutes," he suggested reasonably.

"All right. What do you want to talk about?"

"If I tell you what _I _want to talk about, then you'd accuse me of being full of myself. So, why don't you tell _me _what you want to talk about, then _I'_d accuse you of being full of yourself."

"Fair enough," said Malfoy with a shrug. "Let me in on the D.A."

Harry blinked. "Well, that was a bit too straightforward wasn't it? What are you really up to, Malfoy?"

"We're only friends for fifteen minutes. If I tell you my secrets now, you could very well spread them around in the next minute. Why should I answer that?"

He sighed. "If that's how you view this situation, then I could accept you now as a member of the D.A., and retract it on the sixteenth minute."

There was no reply for that from Malfoy.

"Mal--Draco, what really has made you change?"

"Oh, that I'll be able to answer. You see, I sort of enjoyed not having my father with us during the summer. It was fun without him, truth be told."

"Is that it?"

The question gave Draco some pause. "Well, now that you've asked, the tentacles also helped."

Harry looked at him blankly. "What tentacles?"

"Remember on the train when I warned you to be careful, then you jinxed us? I had tentacles, then," he said.

"Warned me to be careful?" Harry asked, trying to jog his memory. "At the end of the term, you mean? Yeah. I remember. You're kidding me, aren't you?"

"First, everyone suspects me of having motives behind my actions, which might be true if the circumstances had been different. Now, you and Goyle think I like to jest around with people," he said in an overly dramatic voice. "You and my friend probably share the same brain waves." Malfoy gave him a knowing look.

Harry cringed at the very prospect. "I hope not. Now, Malfoy, what good are you for the D.A.?"

"What good is Longbottom to it?" Malfoy asked in the same impertinent tone.

Harry didn't want to answer that. "Why would we be trusting you, then?"

"Are we back to this again?" Malfoy asked in a tired voice.

"Seem like we are."

"I am not asking you to trust me, Potter. What I want is to be _in _your organization. You don't exactly discuss about the rising of the Dark Lord in the D.A., do you? I don't think you create tactics that time, either. You're a Gryffindor. You're all act and no thought."

Harry didn't know whether to take offense or not. Malfoy said the last bit so casually, that anyone who might overhear him might think he was speaking plain truth.

With a sigh, he said, "Well, let's say we exchange deals. I ask the other members whether they want you in or not, try to persuade them if they don't. And you tell us what we want."

Malfoy pondered this over.

"No."

Before Harry could voice his astonishment as Malfoy's reply, he continued. "I don't think I'd agree to those terms. They are much too general and vague. What if you asked me if my father has mistresses?" There was a pause as Malfoy chewed on his statement. "Come to think of it, I never did find out."

"Malfoy," Harry started, "Why would I care about your father's mistresses?" he asked in an exasperated voice. "We want to know what is pertinent as for the moment."

"Oh, so you'd be interested to know which side of the family my good looks come from."

Harry stared, for there was naught anything else to do but that.

"Potter, I was kidding." He shook his head. "Honestly, you Gryffindors have no sense of humor." Benevolently he added, "I'd advise you to develop that."

It was Harry's turn to shake his head. "Malfoy, when Voldemeort is rising back to power, humor isn't very necessary to survive."

Malfoy rolled his eyeballs. "You're morbid, Potter." There was an uncertain pause after that. "So about letting me in on the club."

"Malfoy--"

"I'm willing to trade in Death Eater secrets with you, if you'll let me join."

Malfoy's statement roused some sort of curiosity in Harry. "What sort of Death Eater secrets?"

"You know," he told him confidingly. "Inner circle sort of things."

"Like what?"

"Crabbe's father--the older, beefier, uglier, stupider Crabbe-- never sleeps without something cuddly to hold."

Harry winced. _That _was too "inner-circle like" for him.

But Malfoy wasn't finished just yet. "...And You Know Who...he wears boxers, not briefs."

Harry blanched. The thought was much too revolting to bear thinking. But, grudgingly, he admitted, blackmail might not be too much of a bad idea to stall Voldemort's rise to power.

"And," Draco added still. "McNair, the executioner, eats his roasted chicken while chewing on a mint flavored gum _and _booger flavoured Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans, he specifically ordered from the manufacturer to be sent to him." He finished with a smirk.

"Harry Potter, Boy Who Lived, Harry Potter, Boy Who Survived Yet Again turned green, and ran towards the lake to throw his breakfast out.

* * *

A/N: That's about it for now. I might not be able to update any time soon.


	6. Off to Gryffindor Tower

**Disclaimer: **Not mine and will never be mine unless JK Rowling relinquishes it to me. Fat chance of that happening.

HALLOWEEN MADNESS (Courtesy of Draco Malfoy)

CHAPTER 6: OFF TO GRYFFINDOR TOWER

Draco was careful to conceal the disgust he felt as he watched Potter. He knew he had gone overboard with what he had been saying but who _exactly _cared? Sure, Potter did but he was out of the question.

White lies were perfectly normal. Not so white lies veiled over by complete Malfoy idiosyncrasy were normal as well-- for Malfoys, that is.

Harry Potter the Annoying Git was still retching his very innards on to the lake, and making it ripple with his vehemence.

He didn't keep an evil smile off of his face as he said, "You know, that's really nothing compared to the love triangle Peter Pettigrew has involved himself with."

Slowly, Potter raised those sickeningly doleful green eyes of his, met his amazing storm gray ones and pleaded, "Stop, please."

Without anything for barter? he thought indignantly. _I think not_. "He is in love with Avery, and no I'm not talking about a long lost female relative of the Death Eater."

Potter's eyes widened.

"What? You've never heard of homosexuals before? Oh, but that's not the end of it. Avery is in a relationship for the moment, mind you, with Nott. So, there. It's rather complicated because Nott has a rather ludicrous obssession for ogres."

A sort of pained expression passed Harry's face but Draco wasn't all too sure. As far as he was concerned, Potter only had two expressions, which he named, respectively, the Pity-Me-For-My-Parents-Have-Been-Murdered look and the I-Am-The-Boy-Who-Lived-So-Bow-Before-Me type of glance.

"But I really don't see what you're all acting up about. You haven't heard the worst," he told him in the most matter of fact tone he could muster.

"T-the w-w-worst?" Potter stuttered.

"Yes," he affirmed in dire tones. "You see Professor Severus Snape is actually a closet pedophile. Keen as the Headmaster is, he found out and asked the revered Professor to try to control his urges. So, now, he tries to rein in his unlikely penchant by being _mean _to the students he likes. I'm pretty sure you know what I mean," he told Harry with an underlying glance, meant to make Potter think of the implications of what he said. "Oh, and FYI, he had a thing for James Potter back in school. He's a relative isn't he?" he added deliberately.

"Malfoy," he said, then stopped, as if minding the continued churning of his stomach.

"Lost your tongue?" he goaded.

"I--I'll bring you."

His brows furrowed in confusion. Potter never really was coherent. "What?"

"I'll bring you to the meeting, as long as you stop torturing me."

Torture? He considered what he was doing as cheering Potter on, retch, that is, but nonetheless. "Why should I trust your word?"

"Why should I trust yours?" Potter bit back.

"Got your bile back, eh? Okay, Potter. Where do we meet and what time?"

"Seven tonight at the library."

And with a wave of his hands, he turned his back as a small triumphant smile curving his lips; his plans were starting to materialize and no one even knew he had them. He wanted to laud himself for being a great tactician. He controlled the urge to preen while he was alone, laugh maniacally even as the laughter bubbled within him and gloat over his success for those things were better done in the presence of someone who would be jealous of his greatness.

* * *

If there was something that Draco Malfoy hated most, it was waiting...and being told he looked ugly, or being told that he was worthless or someone telling him that he bought his way in to the team, or... All right, he conceded. There was an interminable number of things that he hated most but waiting was _definitely _a part of them.

And Potter was certainly making him wait. The stupid git told him to be there at seven. It was, by then, 7:02 p.m. Didn't the great Harry Potter have any sense of time?

He decided to stretch his patience longer. _He better be here on the count of three, _he told himself furiosuly. _One... _

No footsteps.

_Two..._

Even more silence.

_Two and three quarters. _

Mrs. Norris, Filch's ugly cat, walked passed him, all along giving him a wary look.

_Potter..._

There were footsteps that followed his annoyed call, then voices.

"But Harry," came the Sidekick Weasel's tone. "Why did you invite him to the meeting? For all we know, he could be a spy for You-Know-Who."

"Oh, honestly, Ron," he heard Hermione say. "Why don't you say the name? It's just 'Voldemort.' Three syllables. But I have to agree with him," she must've turned to Potter. "Having Malfoy at the meeting might be a risky thing."

"See?" Weasely insisted. "Hermione agrees with me."

"It's just this once," whined Potter. "You just weren't there so you wouldn't be able to understand how it felt. It was awful just to hear all those things he told me. Now, I know he played me for a fool for a while back there but still..."

They came around the corner to reveal themselves to him.

"For a while?" he echoed, not able to resist the urge when the three stopped in their tracks as they looked at him. "Excuse me, Potter, for thinking that you've always been one. I just thought that today was one of your better days as one."

"Malfoy," Potter greeted him curtly.

"Potter, Weasley, Hermione," he returned.

They stood there, exchanging glances with each other.

Finally, "Well, come along, then. I want to see how your meetings work."

"I'm telling you, you better just _not want to go. _It's best if you do not associate yourself with our kind," said Potter.

"No. I'm trying to stretch my limits, you see, in the hopes of being able to understand your simple minds."

With a frustrated sigh, Potter led the way.

* * *

He was greeted by suspicious looks when he arrived at the Room of Requirement. He ignored them. Instead, he commented, "Nice room. You say our old house elf directed you here? Hmm. He must have been of some use afterall."

No one had the better manners to reply.

A certain Hufflepuff, whom he recognized as one of the people Petrified during second year, was glaring at him openly as he growled, "What are you doing here?"

"I'm spying for the Dark Lord, what else?" A little provocation was what this lot needed.

Three of the members held the Hufflepuff back as he struggled to get to him.

"Malfoy!" came Hermione's sharp reprimand.

"He was asking. So, this is all you do here?"

"I refuse to be part of a meeting with that _Slytherin_ here!" The Ravenclaw Seeker said.

There was a murmur of agreement from the other members at that.

"Well, I don't happen to enjoy being part of this meeting, either way," he told them airily. "I just need to be part of the organization."

Hermione's keen eyes focused on him. "Need?" she echoed.

"Want," he amended quickly. "I just want to be part of the organization."

If the look in Hermione's eyes were to be any clue, he knew deep in his gut that Hermione did not believe him and that that slip of the tongue would be his ruin if she decided that it was important.

Harry Potter, born leader, sighed helplessly and pleaded, "Let's just be diplomatic about this."

"Kick him out, and we'll be diplomatic," said a small, plain looking boy--another Hufflepuff surely.

"Yeah," the Hufflepuff Prefect seconded. "He might throw jinxes at us when we take down our guards."

_No wonder they weren't going anywhere with their work. The Hufflepuffs have overpopulated the place, _he thought. _What sort of idiot would throw jinxes at a _group _of people who hated him and were learning defense together? Stupid Hufflepuff._

Losing all semblance of patience, Hermione looked at his direction, a finger pointed towards the door, and said sharply, "Out."

A look of utter indignation passed his Malfoy features. "_You_ are going to talk. _You_ go."

She rolled her eyes at him. "Everyone, out. Except you, Malfoy," she told him when he started to move to the door. "Don't dare eavesdrop on us."

All the members passed him as they filed out the room, some even holding their wands at an alarming angle (if he weren't any other than Draco Malfoy, that is), and the whole lot of them, with a great deal of suspicion in their eyes.

He feigned a look of complete innocence and even managed to smile at some of them.

When it was Longbottom's turn to eye him with a look of unadulterated terror (which he just relished, truly), he stuck a foot out. And inept and stupid as Longbottom was, he hadn't been able to see and avoid it in time, sending him to collide with all the other members.

He was the recipient of several Avada Kedavra glances for that stunt.

* * *

Draco soon found himself bored again.

He had finished going around the room, inspecting the things that adorned it. He also had already gone through having to think of things that he wanted, and seeing them inside the room.

But now, he was bored again.

What to do now? he asked himself.

He inched towards the door, careful not to make any noise, and slowly, laid an ear over the door. He couldn't hear anything. He tried to press his ear closer in hopes of hearing something but to no avail.

_Damn, damn witch._

Hermione's done it again. She knew that he will do this and had put a charm on the door to prevent him from listening in on the discussion outside.

_Clever, clever witch. _

Annoyed, he sat down on a big, green, comfortable chair, which suspiciously looked like his favorite over at the Slytherin Common Room. What was he going to do now? Hermione has clearly ruined his plan already.

He eyed the bags that the members left with him and his eyes glinted.

He walked towards the pile of bags left inside the room. One had red stitches brandished all over it, in a flourished handwriting, it read: Neville Longbottom. _Even his grandmum must think he's that stupid._ He opened the bag, and looked at the pieces of parchment it contained; two of which caught his eyes. He had his name on one of them.

"List of things to say to Malfoy," he said aloud. "Interesting." He shifted his glance on to the other paper. "List of Things to Say to Ron when He Shows his List."

He vaguely wondered why Longbottom had the pieces of parchment with him, tossed the thought aside, and folded them to fit inside his pockets.

He discreetly closed Longbottom's bag and moved on to the others.

Harry Potter's bag looked like everyone else's but Draco's fortitude kept him from giving up. Finally, he found it, opened it, and found a cloak stuffed inside it.

He frowned and took the cloak out of the bag. It was made of very nice material, he thought.

His eyes grew round when he realized that his hands were invisible.

_Potter has an Invisibility Cloak. _

Why didn't father buy me one when he was with us? he asked himself a bit jealously.

He looked around just to make sure that no one was about and stuffed the cloak into his own bag, careful to put everything back where they belonged as not to arouse any suspicion.

* * *

When Harry Potter and his crew of do-gooders came back into the room, they didn't suspect that he, Draco Malfoy, had ransacked through their things.

But nevertheless, they still threw him suspicious looks.

"Malfoy," Potter said.

He raised a brow at him. "Yes?"

"We've decided to postpone the meeting for the night. You'll have to be initiated if you really want to be part of the DA."

"An initiation?" he repeated. "Why?"

"Just to check if you have good intentions on you," said Weasely.

"I don't," he told them matter-of-factly. "Let me assure you of that."

That left the group in dumbfounded silence.

"But I do want to learn more defensive and offensive magic. So, I'll be marginally less...evil."

Although that didn't suite well for the other members, they had to accept it. For they knew that Draco Malfoy was probably stronger than they all were.

"So, this meeting is dismissed," said Potter. "We'll keep in touch with you for the details of your initiation rites."

"That's very sweet of you, Potter," he said. "I didn't know you cared so much."

Potter rolled his eyes and exited the room with his cronies.

Draco waited until Potter and the other members were out of his sight. He opened his bag to take out the cloak and put it around him.

_Let's see what Gryffindor Tower looks just like._

* * *

He followed them closely, even managed to jump after them at that bloody moving staircase. He's always thought that Gryffindor was up in Hogwarts somewhere but who would have thought that it was _way _up at the Towers?

Finally, the trio stopped in front of a portrait of a very fat lady.

"Malfoy is following us," said Hermione.

Draco blanched. _How'd she know? Did she see through invisibility cloaks as well? _He was so certain that he was so quiet. He was about to drop the cloak when--

"All right, dears," said the fat lady, and the portrait hole appeared.

He scrambled after the three Gryffindors to get in to the Tower. When he was inside, he thought, _Bloody Gryffindors. I'm almost certain that it was the Weasel's idea of fun..._

"I wish Malfoy would just tell us what he's up to," said Potter in a resigned voice.

"If I did that, I wouldn't be upholding Slytherin heritage, would I?" he asked out loud, removing the cloak.

Hermione gasped. "Malfoy!"

"Hello."

"What are you doing here?"

* * *

**A/N:** I know that this chapter isn't much and isn't anything to make up for the past two months that I haven't updated. But college is too much of a drag and I haven't much time to do much of anything else --;

**Next chapter:** Malfoy wreaks mayhem and havoc (with a bit more of his new character spice) into Gryffindor Tower, sending all the Gryffindors wanting to go to Azkaban just to have him farthest away from them as possible. And semi-revelations why Malfoy is acting all funny.


	7. Malfoy's Plans

HALLOWEEN MADNESS (Courtesy of Draco Malfoy)

CHAPTER 7: MALFOY'S PLANS

Malfoy looked on blankly for a couple of seconds or so, apparently never expecting to hear that question asked of him. "Haven't we gone through this at the meeting a while back?" he asked instead. "Speaking of the meeting--"

"Don't you dare try change the subject, Malfoy," Hermione told him warningly. "What are you doing here?"

Before he could answer, Potter, in a flash, was kneeling in front of him. "I see. You probably are asking me so you could use the same tactic. Potter, please, you could just tell me I'm wonderful. You don't have to kneel before--"

"This is my cloak." Potter raised those wan greens of his, rage making them look even more awful. "You stole my cloak!" He lunged in on him.

He vaguely heard Weasley cheering Potter on. _Idiot. _

"Potter!" he yelled as he struggled to get him off. "All this display of affection--"

"Shut it, you bloody pillock!" Potter shouted and pummeled a fist to his face.

Malfoy quickly evaded the blow. "Hey! Not on the face!"

"For goodness' sake, you two," Hermione shouted amidst their squabble. "Stop acting like children! Harry!" she screeched when Malfoy managed to throw Potter off him.

Malfoy stood up, breathing hard. "What the bloody hell are you thinking, attacking me like that?"

Potter approached him menacingly. However, Hermione slipped in between the two of them. "Stop it," she said firmly.

But Harry Potter wasn't finished yet. In one fluid motion, he slipped a fisted hand through Hermione's slim figure and hit Malfoy in the stomach.

Malfoy doubled over and groaned.

Hermione turned to her friend. "Harry! I told you to quit it."

"But he stole my cloak!" he exclaimed defensively.

"Yes, but he's _Malfoy._"

"...and a Slytherin, at that," Weasel added.

Recovered from Potter's strike, he said, "Is that supposed to imply something?"

"Everyone, shush! All this noise will bring the others down here to the Common Room--"

Just as Hermione finished saying this, the portal opened and several chatting Gryffindors, fresh from the DA meeting, stopped in mid-walk as they stared at Malfoy, dumbfounded at his presence in their domain.

"Well, hello," he greeted them nicely. "I like the colors of your Common Room--red and sickly yellow..."

Hermione rolled her eyes.

"That's scarlet and gold," muttered Weasel beside him.

"What is he doing here?" the Irish one asked, then as if he's changed his mind, "What are _you _doing here?"

"Oh, you know," he said nonchalantly. "Again, spying for my Slytherin cohorts and the Dark Lord."

"We are never getting a decent answer from him," said Hermione, casting him a look of the same kind as her tone. "This sort of situation needs diplomacy."

"I could do 'diplomacy'," Weasley offered. "Take your pick from the Unforgivable Curses."

"Get a dictionary, please," he told him in reply. "That'd sure help improve your vocabulary."

"Malfoy, if you don't tell us what you're doing here, we are going to report you to the Headmaster," Hermione told him.

"Well, aren't you doing that just the same?"

There was a collective "yes" from the Gryffindors who were around him.

"Then what's the whole point? I'd rather keep you all in suspense."

Weasley came up with a strangled sound that seemed to emanate from the deepest confines of a stomach gone wild and made a move to attack him, only to be stopped by Hermione. "Diplomacy, remember?" she reminded him.

Through gritted teeth, he said, "Fine. Let's just go to Professor McGonagall and have her settle this."

* * *

If McGonagall didn't think of her reputation, she might've screamed in frustration, Draco noted as he watched avidly the said professor's nostrils flare in her annoyance.

"Mr. Malfoy."

"Oh, please, use Draco," he said and smirked at her.

That earned him a jab in the ribs from Hermione. He winced.

"I'm really sorry, Professor McGonagall," said Hermione.

"But what I don't understand is how Malfoy managed to get in without anyone of you noticing."

_You see Professor, Potter has an invisibility cloak that they use to sneak around in the middle of the night. I stole it from them_, Draco thought, relishing the feel of having to say it and see the esteemed professor's eyes bulge out.

Weasel must have realized what he was thinking because he said, eyes fixed on him, "He walked too far away from us. He must have overheard the password."

"Mr. Malfoy, Professor Snape must be informed about your behavior. I could not believe it! Sneaking into Gryffindor Tower! For whast, I ask?"

"I want to spy on them," he replied casually.

A pair of hands wrapped around his neck, and threatened to tighten. He slowly raised a wand to those pair of hands and said, "Let go or I'll hex your hands off you."

"This behavior---! It is deplorable! Weasely, Malfoy, you two are prefects. I would deem it necessary that you act accordingly."

A brilliant idea struck him that time. "You mean we take it out on the battle field of honor? What about it, Weasel Boy? Let's duel."

McGonagall threw him a sharp look. "Come with me, Mr. Malfoy. You will have a lengthy talk with the Headmaster."

_Exactly what he was waiting for..._

* * *

The silence that Dumbledore offered to him was discomforting.

"Lemon drop, Mr. Malfoy?" he offered.

Draco was not expecting anything like this. Instead of him goading Dumbledore to no end like he did the other old professor, it seemed like Dumbledore was putting one over him.

"No, thank you."

"Suit yourself," he said and promptly popped a candy into his mouth.

He stood up then, and began a slow, steady pace around the room.

"Professor Dumbledore, I really think that we should talk," he started.

"Oh?" he stopped walking, and raised a brow at him. "About what?"

Bonkers, this professor, sure was.

"Well, this isn't exactly a friendly visit," he told him pointedly. "Seeing as McGonagall even escorted me here."

"Ah, I see..."

_See what?_

Professor Dumbledore sat once more, leaned forward to the desk, and began tapping his fingers on it in a rhythmic motion.

"Get it out already!" he snapped in his impatience.

"Why don't you start, Mr. Malfoy? I know there is something you want to tell me."

Draco once thought that Dumbledore was completely barking. Now, he thought Dumbledore an escapee from Azkaban who miraculously survived but has, quite sadly, lost his mind but appeared to be normal to the inexperienced eye.

"I don't have any idea what you are talking about," he denied.

"Sure, you don't." He had that knowing gleam in his eyes. "Just as I have nothing to say about your plans of staying in Gryffindor Tower when your father finds out of your activities."

He paled.

"W-w-what?"

The professor's reply was one of his annoying complacent smiles.

"Dare I hint senility coming over you, Headmaster?" he asked, recollecting his momentum.

"You could try," he allowed. "But I doubt that changes anything at all."

With a resigned sigh, he said, "No, it probably won't. What do you want to know?"

"Exactly what you plan to do, Mr. Malfoy."

* * *

The happy chatting noise in the Gryffindor common room was suddenly put to a sudden halt when the portal opened and revealed a white faced Professor McGonagall.

"Students," she said in a loud voice. "Call the others in their dormitories and gather around."

A series of shuffling feet followed next as they rushed to do as they were bid.

Harry, Hermione, and Ron looked at each other. Somehow they knew that the announcement has something to do with Malfoy. And the very knowledge of it brought them a sense of foreboding.

Professor McGonagall looked around as if to assess if they were already complete, cleared her throat and, said in a loud voice, "Gryffindors, I would all like you to meet your new ..."--she cleared her throat as if the word was stuck and she couldn't get it out-- "...housemate."

The Gryffindors' caught each other's eyes in mixed curiosity and puzzlement.

"Please, come in," she continued in an unusually loud voice.

Harry held in his breath. _Let it not be him... _He closed his eyes.

Unknowingly, he voiced the thought out loud. Beside him, Ron said, voice low, eyes fixated on the door, "Somebody out there really hates you, mate. It _is _him."

Chaos reigned when Draco Malfoy, heir to the Malfoy empire, Slytherin prince, future leader of Death Eaters entered the room with an annoying smirk on his face.

"Hello again, new Housemates."

Seamus' jaw dropped, Hermione saw from her peripheral vision.

"But Professor--" And so came all the protests from the indignant Gryffindors.

Professor McGonagall raised a hand to stall their noise. "It is to Professor Dumbledore's wishes that Mr. Malfoy stays here in your tower. I do not know of his reasons nor do I have the right to question his decision and so..."

"Where is he staying, then?" Ron asked, his protests still in his voice. "Our dormitories are full."

"We'll just have to make room for him, won't we?"

"Where?" Dean asked.

"Potter's sounds bloody fine," drawled Malfoy. "Does he have his own room?"

"No."

"What? The great Harry Potter?"

"Stall it," snapped Harry. "If you're staying here, then you'd have to at least be good to us. This is our territory after all."

"Be good?" he echoed. "Potter, you and I have been enemies for five years here in Hogwarts. I should think that you'd know by now that I am not _good, _in that context."

Professor McGonagall once again cleared her throat. "Children! Mr. Malfoy will stay in the boys' dormitory." And she left with no further word.

Malfoy looked on at the still gaping Gryffindors. "I'd like to settle in now, if you please," he told them.

With menacing looks on their faces, the Gryffindors started to move forward to him.

* * *

"Whatever happened to you, Mr. Malfoy?" asked Madame Pomfrey as she bustled about the Hospital Wing for Malfoy's remedy.

Malfoy caught Hermione's eyes, and she held her breath. "I had a little accident, Madame Pomfrey."

"A little?" she repeated. She stood in front of Malfoy and thrust a cup of liquid to his hand. "Here. Drink it and it will take care of the pain. But you will have to make do with the colors on your face until they mend."

"Couldn't you do anything for it?" Malfoy asked.

"Sorry, no. You could charm it so it'd not look obvious but I doubt the results would be better," she said with a chuckle and left. "You could go now, Mr. Malfoy," she called.

"What does she mean?" Malfoy asked Hermione with a perplexed expression.

Hermione giggled. "I've heard of a student here that has tried to do that."

"What's so amusing about it?"

"Her hair changed color from a very subtle brown to riotous orange. It went from straight to curly. No one saw the marks but they sure did notice her."

Malfoy frowned. "Well, what do you suggest I do?"

"I don't know." Hermione started walking away, out of the Hospital Wing.

He ran after her. "Oi! Hermione! Is that a way to treat your boyfriend?"

"What boyfriend? You're not my boyfriend."

"You brought me to the Infirmary against your better judgment. That sort of thing implies deep, unending love for someone."

"Right or it could just be guilt because I wasn't able to stop them for beating the crap out of you, which you justly deserve," she said without pause.

"That, too," he agreed. "So, how about the Ball?"

"What about it?"

He hastened his steps to block Hermione's way. "Have you thought about my offer?"

"Haven't I given you the answer already? Move, Malfoy. I need to get to the library."

"Everyone's entitled to change their minds. Why shouldn't you?"

"Malfoy, you just don't get it, do you? You're a Slytherin. I'm a Gryffindor. You asking me has already created enough uproar in this school. If I go out with you, everyone will think we've gone crazy." Her mantra. How she wished Malfoy would just listen to it.

"But it's alright if you go out with a Ravenclaw or a Hufflepuff, isn't it? Why not a Slytherin?"

"Because you're Slytherins," was her simple answer before she went passed him.

* * *

"What the bloody hell is wrong with being a Slytherin?" Draco asked out loud. He was in his Ancient Runes class.

Blaise Zabini, beside him, raised startled eyes to him. "What?"

"Hermione won't go out with me because I'm in Slytherin."

They didn't speak anymore until the class was over.

"So, Malfoy, have you ever heard of the word 'conspicuous'?" Zabini asked casually, as they queued out of the classroom.

"Yes. Why?"

"Well, you're doing your best to be just as so. How do you expect us to carry out our plans with you doing that? And what are you doing in Gryffindor Tower?"

Malfoy rolled his eyes at him. "That's a tactic, you know. Since it was the Headmaster who asked me to be put in Gryffindor, my father will suspect that Dumbledore suspects me of carrying his plans out in Hogwarts which isn't really what is happening."

That gave Zabini some pause. "What?"

* * *

**A/N:** Finally, I've posted another chapter. I'm really sorry. My brain cells have all died and gone to the place where brain cells are supposed to go after they die and haven't been replaced. I'm fast running out of ideas. This is all because of school work... Next chapter might come sooner...hopefully.

**Next Chapter: **Now that Dumbledore is in on Malfoy's plans, what will happen next? Will it involve another heart to heart with the tree? Or a special class that the DA members will have to attend? How about a new look to Gryffindor?


	8. Initiation to the DA

**Disclaimer: **I think it's a little bit obvious that I don't own any of the characters here nor much of the original story for that matter.

HALLOWEEN MADNESS (Courtesy of Draco Malfoy)

CHAPTER 8: INITIATION TO THE D.A.

Draco stood in front of the portrait of the Fat Lady, crossed his arms across his chest and thoughtfully eyed the subject of the portrait.

The Fat Lady fluttered her eyes at him.

"What are you doing out here?" she asked.

"I'm waiting for someone to help me get in."

"Don't you know the password?" she asked, confused. "Didn't Professor McGonagall tell you?"

"Oh, she did," he was quick to assure her. "It's just that I'm waiting for Granger. She'll stop those beasts in there from killing me."

The Fat Lady let out a laugh (as graciously as possible, of course). "I see. You're a Slytherin, aren't you?"

"At your service," he said and performed a sweeping bow.

"Malfoy," came Hermione's impatient voice from behind him. "Why are you always in my way when I'm in a hurry?" she asked when he straightened up to greet her. "Malfoy is following us."

"Yes, dear," said the Fat Lady and swung away from the portal.

"Wait up," Malfoy called as he tried to keep up with Hermione's quick steps. "Why're you always in a hurry?"

"Why are you always annoying?" she retorted and stopped short as she noticed the group of Gryffindors that were staring at them. "All had a pleasant day?"

"Yes, Hermione," said Dean, eyes fixed on Malfoy. "We would like to talk to Malfoy for awhile, if you please."

"Well, I fairly think that she doesn't," Malfoy retorted. "So, if you'd excuse us--"

"Not so fast," panted Weasley, coming in through the portrait. "I told you, Harry, that he would try to maneuver his way out of this!" he exclaimed accusatorily to Potter. "Ferret boy, we would like to talk to you."

"Who exactly is '_we'_?" he asked, a brow arched superciliously at them.

"Us Gryffindors, you're sharing your room with," replied Seamus.

"Oh, so is this a man to man thing, then?" he asked, still goading them.

"Well, I'm off. Harry, Ron, call me when you're ready to go to the Great Hall."

Harry gave her a distracted nod and they all watched her go up the girls' dormitories.

"I like the new colors on your face," said Weasley with a snigger. "It adds more complexity to your naturally boring demeanor."

He controlled the urge to roll his eyes. "Too bad I can't return the compliment. The freckles are just horrible."

_How's that for having your insult boomeranged back to you? _he thought triumphantly.

Weasley reddened to the best ever red Draco has ever seen him make.

"Just stop goading each other," said St. Potter. "Malfoy, regarding your sleeping arrangements--"

"Oh, don't fight over who gets to sleep with me. I'm versatile. I could take on all of you in one night."

The Irish turned green and Longbottom fell from his seat. Thomas gave him a repulsive look to which he replied with a wink.

Potter and Weasley looked at each other.

"Might as well give up on him," said Potter sagely. "He won't be bending to us even if we do outnumber him."

"I certainly hope that that wasn't some sort of sexual innuendo," said Seamus weakly to Harry.

Harry paled when Malfoy grinned at him. "L-l-let's call Hermione," he stuttered.

* * *

"That Malfoy--" said Ron, seething at the sight of the former at the Slytherin table during dinner. "How dare he just _happen to like _to stay at Gryffindor Tower and still want to associate himself with the Slytherins?"

"Honestly, Ron, you should be glad," Hermione asserted, taking a sip from her cup. "Just imagine if he started to befriend the Gryffindors..."

"She's right," Harry agreed. "At least, something of Malfoy is still in character." He looked at Malfoy from across the tables that separated their Houses. "Even though he's started to act all strange, we're quite well assured that he still is a Slytherin."

Malfoy caught Harry's eyes, then. He smirked at him, and proceeded to say something to the Slytherins around him. They, in turn, all looked at Harry with malice in their eyes; some of them, sniggering.

Harry had a distinct feeling that he wouldn't like to know what Malfoy told them.

"Well, Harry," Seamus Finnigan said, "what are you planning about Malfoy's initiation?"

"I haven't thought about it yet," he admitted. "Do you have anything you want him to do?"

"Let's make him whip a batch of Polyjuice Potion and if he fails, he can't be accepted to the D.A.," said Ron.

Hermione was quick to disagree with the suggestion when the others looked like they actually liked the idea. "That's impossible to do within a week, Ron. The ingredients are really hard to find and the procedures are complicated."

"But Malfoy is good in Potions," Parvati pointed out. "And his family has connections."

"No," said Hermione firmly. "That will not do."

"How about it if we asked him to be good for one whole week to everyone? You know, without the usual Malfoy malice?" Colin suggested excitedly.

"No," said Harry firmly. "We can't have Malfoy doing that. It will cause a severe attack of paranoia on everyone here in Hogwarts who knows how evil he could be. But it's a good idea," Harry added brightly when Colin's face fell.

Justin leaned over the Gryffindor table, overhearing the conversation. He said, "I think Malfoy should do something he isn't used to doing."

"Like?" Hermione prompted.

Justin looked blank for a few seconds. "Well... we could have him talk to a tree in front of everyone part of the D.A...."

Harry, in the middle of gulping his food, choked. Everyone on the table turned to him.

"You alright?" Ron asked him.

He forced a smile and nodded. "Yeah."

"That will make him look stupid," commented Parvati. "The D.A. is beyond making people look stupid."

"Alright," said Harry, coming to a decision. "Justin, inform all the other members of an advanced meeting tonight. We'll talk of Malfoy's initiation."

* * *

Harry looked at the expectant eyes of the D.A. members present. Not all of them were able to attend on such short notice but there was a good number of them in the room.

Luna Lovegood looked at him directly in the eyes. "I thought to come tonight because someone whispered that Malfoy will be bringing a unicorn as his initiation rite for the members to see."

Harry stared. "What?"

"Someone told me," she begun but Harry cut her off.

"That's fine, Luna," he said. "I haven't decided about that yet. That's why I called this meeting. I want you all to give me suggestions."

There was a rather distinct pause as the members thought about what they would like Malfoy to do. Harry gave them ample time to ponder on the task before he said, "Well, anyone?"

Hannah Abbot tentatively said, "Well, we could ask him to dye his hair black since he takes so much pride in it."

"That's just too easy on Malfoy!" Ernie Mcmillan protested. "We should let him go to Professor Snape and ask him the brand of shampoo he uses to make his hair look that way."

"Or," Justin Finch-Fletchley said, "we could make him go to Professor Sprout and ask if she is in need of a bone-growing draft..."

Zacharias Smith said with a malicious glint in his eyes, "Maybe we could ask him to give Professor McGonagall flowers and court her."

"What is with you Hufflepuffs and professors?" asked Terry Boot exasperatedly. "We can't drag in any of the professors in this or they'll stop us."

"He's right," Hermione agreed, sending the Ravenclaw an approving look. "Anyway, those suggestions were bordering around rude already and you all know it."

"Well, what are we going to make him do then?" Zacharias challenged, annoyed that his suggestion got shot down by Hermione. "Make him recite 'she sells sea shells by the sea shore' twenty times without faltering?" he asked sarcastically.

"We could make him operate my brother's camera," Dennis Creevey's small voice resonated at the quiet room after Zacharias' comment.

Harry mulled it over. "Malfoy does seem to have an aversion with things related to muggles."

"We could keep that idea if we don't think of anything else then," Ron agreed. "I've an idea, though."

They all looked at Ron.

"We could use the initiation to ask him to stop being such a bloody, annoying prick. What more opportune time could come?"

Ginny rolled her eyes at her brother. "We're just looking for a difficult task for Malfoy to do; not ask for a miracle."

Anthony Goldstein said, "Hey, I know. Why don't we just ask him not to use magic on a particular day?"

"We're studying at a school of magic," said Zacharias pointedly as if Anthony had gone bonkers.

"But that's just it, isn't it?" said Hermione, her face brightening. "Since we do study magic, asking him not to use his is just near impossible: he might decline the initiation."

"Brilliant," Harry said. "Malfoy is too conscious of his grades to agree to this one."

There was a murmur of agreement from the other members at this.

"So, it's settled, then," Harry said. "Tomorrow, we tell Malfoy."

* * *

If there was one thing that they still haven't learned, it was the fact that Malfoy could put a lot of crick in well planned strategies.

They all waited in anticipation as Malfoy thought over his task.

"I agree. Is that starting today?"

So much for Anthony's brilliance.

* * *

There was something distinctly peculiar with the stares Hermione was receiving from the Slytherins come Potions that day. She pointed this out to both Harry and Ron; Harry told her to ignore them while Ron shrugged, seeming not to care, looking still bemused that Malfoy's taken the challenge.

"How is he to cope without magic for a whole day?" he wailed after Malfoy has gone to class, leaving them all stupefied.

They've told Ron one too many times to give over trying to figure Malfoy out, but to no avail.

Hermione's eyes caught Malfoy and his cronies along with Blaise Zabini enter the room as they took their seats. Malfoy smirked at her, and had the audacity to wink when he went pass them to their respective seats.

There was no time to fume over Malfoy for Snape entered the room in the usual swish of robes, and laid the notes he had in hand on his table. He eyed the class contemptuously as if, despite the fact that they all passed their O.W.L.s for Potions, they were a bunch of fools.

"I've come to realize that although you already had worked in pairs for the Aging Potion, most of you do not have enough sense to make it properly," he said in a cutting voice. "I am going to have you all work in threes for a more tasking potion."

Harry, Ron and Hermione looked at each other.

"Since, Mr. Malfoy and Ms. Granger got full marks last time, they will still be together this time, and will be joined by Mr. Zabini. Please stand up, you three."

With a dejected sigh, Hermione did as they were bid. Her eyes caught Malfoy's once more and his grin was none too disappointed if she were to say so.

"I expect nothing but the best from your group," Snape then sent Hermione an underlying glance. "Do not disappoint me."

"I can't believe that Snape!" Ron muttered angrily as Hermione sat down, Snape continued to announce the groups. "How is he expecting that you three work together?"

"Weasley, do you have a problem?" Snape inquired probably noticing Ron's angry countenance.

"Er, no, Professor Snape, sir," Ron replied, flustered.

"Good; you'll be working with Crabbe and Goyle."

Ron made a face when Snape turned to leave. _Crabbe and Goyle_, he mouthed.

Harry shook his head and patted Ron's back in what would have been a remorseful manner if not for the shadow of a grin lurking 'round the corners of his mouth. Ron caught it, and in return, stepped on Harry's foot, hard.

"Ouch!" Harry exclaimed, which brought Snape's attention back to them.

"Mr. Potter." Harry stood up involuntarily. "I have just had about enough of your attention-hogging attitude. You will work alone this time."

Harry's mouth dropped but he didn't utter one word. He sat down, then heard a snicker coming the Slytherins' way.

"Ignore them," Hermione mumbled. "I'll try to help you when I can."

He sent her a grateful smile, and looked miserably on at Snape, who continued to give out names.

"This potion that we will make is very crucial. I am sure that you are all aware of Veritaserum."

There was a collective gasp from the students in the classroom.

"But sir," Pansy Parkinson raised her hand, "isn't that illegal?" She asked with a small smile.

"I've taken care of that matter. We are going to make a very weak draft of the said potion. Professor Dumbledore agreed that you all are _sensible _students who are very well _responsible_. This will be the first time that students are tasked to make the truth serum. I trust that you will not fail me."

"What about the ingredients, sir?" Hermione asked.

"I have them all in stock," was his curt reply. "I have the ingredients written out on the board. Begin."

Everyone, then, moved to their designated places. Hermione met up with Blaise and Draco halfway the room. "Well, what are we waiting for?" she asked impatiently, when the two boys, towering over her, just kept looking.

"I can't use magic," said Malfoy.

"So?"

"Why?" Zabini asked, mildly curious.

"It's a secret between us," said Malfoy.

"Alright."

"I'm going to supervise you two, instead."

"What?"

"You heard me."

"Bossy prat, isn't he?" said Blaise half jokingly. "Hello, Ms. Granger. My name's Blaise Zabini. I believe we've never been properly introduced."

"Are you really in Slytherin?" she asked, suspicious of his attitude.

"I've wondered so myself."

"You're flirting with Hermione, Zabini," Malfoy's voice cut through. "Go and get the ingredients, please."

As Blaise left to go and look over the list of ingredients, Malfoy told Hermione, "Have you thought about my offer to go to the Halloween Ball with me?"

"I think we've gone through this conversation a tad bit too many times to even bother answering you again."

"Why the hell won't you, then?"

"Because Inter-House unity is the least of my priorities for the moment."

"Well, you could just go because I'm devastatingly handsome and you'd love to have the honor of coming as my date. Forget house unity."

"Or not," said Hermione as firmly as she could. "Malfoy, you're self-centered and evil. You're just not my type."

"What's wrong with being self-centered and evil?" he asked, as if she were on the wrong side of things.

"Practically nothing," Zabini said, coming from behind Hermione. "It's alright to be self-centered and evil. There's nothing wrong with it if you're pleasing yourself."

"I don't like your condescending tone," Malfoy told him.

Zabini grinned at him. "What's not to like?"

They got through the Potions class with Malfoy and Zabini bantering like siblings, Malfoy inquiring as to Hermione's decision over the date at the ball (over and over again), and Hermione telling Malfoy to cut his ingredients right.

The only good thing that happened to them that day was the fact that Snape _didn't find them disappointing. _

Even Harry managed to get a passing grade from Snape (and that with no incentive that he was working alone whereas the others were in threes); and, much to their relief, Ron was still alive although with a failing mark.

"So, Hermione, would you care joining me in the library later this evening?" Blaise asked her as she was turning to leave.

"Why?"

"Oh, I don't know. I was thinking we could have a nice chat about life, love and our struggles--"

"Shut it, Zabini," Malfoy said. "Hermione's not meeting you at the library."

"Why not?"

"Because you're a Slytherin. I'm a Gryffindor now." And with that, he dragged Hermione away from Blaise. Harry and Ron called after them, following them in a hurry.

"Oy, Malfoy! Where are you bringing Hermione?" Ron called.

"Next class is Transfiguration."

"That's for the Gryffindors!" Harry told him pointedly.

"Then, I'll just escort her to Transfiguration and go back to the Tower."

"Let go of her, Malfoy, you git," Ron snarled after him.

"Maybe I will if you dye your hair!" Malfoy called back.

* * *

Shock would have been the understatement of the year to describe what the Gryffindors felt upon entering their common room.

Everything had turned green.

"What happened?" Seamus Finnigan asked, eyes roaming around.

"I'm glad you're all back," came Malfoy's rather friendly voice as he emerged from the staircase leading to the boys' dormitory. "Do you like the new interior?"

"I knew it had to be you," said Dean in a tired voice. "Whoever will it be?"

Malfoy let out a devastating smile that made Parvati and Lavander sigh despite everything. "I was hoping for a kind word, or two, you know."

"Who's going to give that to you?" Ron very nearly snarled.

"Longbottom will, won't you?" Draco stared at Neville.

Neville paled, then turned red. "Er--"

"Won't you?" he repeated.

"Y-y-yeah."

He stared expectantly. "Well? What do you say?"

"Er--it's very, uh... green..."

"Yes, I know. It took me quite some time to get this done without me using magic."

"How _exactly _did you do it?" Harry asked suspiciously.

"That's for me to know, and for you to find out."

Ron stepped forward with a menacing look in his eyes. Harry stopped him. "Hasn't your fist had enough of Malfoy yet?"

"Oh, Potter, I didn't know you cared."

"Malfoy's face is rather thick, isn't it?" Harry continued.

"What?!" came Malfoy's enraged exclamation.

"Harry!" Colin Creevey came tumbling down the stairs and looked near having a cardiac arrest when he saw Malfoy.

"Oh, hello, little helper."

"Helper?" the Gryffindors echoed.

"Harry," Colin said and slowly approached Harry. "He made me do it."

"Do what?" Hermione asked, taking note of Colin's scared expression.

"Make everything green."

Hermione gave Malfoy an incredulous look.

Malfoy smiled and shrugged.

* * *

"What about it? The day's nearly over," Malfoy said tauntingly as the Gryffindors settled in their beds.

"Don't look so smug about it," said Ron.

"Why not?"

Ron decided he'd rather not reply.

"Oh, yeah," said Draco, remembering as he sat on his own bed. "Professor Dumbledore said that he wanted to talk to you, Potter."

"Really?"

"Yeah. He dropped by while Creevey and I were decorating."

"When did he say he wanted to see me?" Harry asked for the sake of conversation.

"When you came back from Transfiguration."

"Are you serious?"

"Of course."

Harry got out of bed and nearly flew out the room, thinking that what the Headmaster wanted to say was important, when Malfoy called, "Change your clothes, Potter. You don't want to torment some poor soul, do you? Anyway, he wanted me to come with you."

He stopped in his tracks.

* * *

"Chocolate Frog?" Dumbledore offered.

Malfoy threw him a disgusted look, forgetting for the moment that the was the headmaster of the school. "You're too old to have a sweet tooth."

"Ah, but one is never too old to have a sweet tooth or for anything else for that matter," he replied, eyes twinkling.

"Said like the true ancient that you are," said Malfoy.

"Er, Professor, what is that you wanted to talk with me for?" Harry asked in hopes of Malfoy shutting up.

"I want the members of the D.A. to have a special class."

"A special class, sir?"

"Yes. It will handle teaching _my army _higher Defense Against the Dark Arts magic."

"Higher defense magic?"

"Yes, that's what he said, you brilliant parrot you," Malfoy told Harry.

Harry threw Malfoy a glare. "Sir, who will teach us?"

"I've assigned Professors Snape and Lupin to take over your lessons. As the leader of the D.A., I assign you to go to those two professors so you could arrange the schedules."

"But Professor Snape--?"

"Potter," said Malfoy in an airy voice, "I rather think that Professor Snape will do well as our teacher in this course. Just think, being a once-supporter of the Dark Lord, he will know a lot. Plus the all-black outfit--tacky as it is-- and the foreboding demeanor isn't all that bad for a symbol of authority."

"Nobody asked for you opinion," he couldn't help but snap at him. "You aren't a member of the D.A. ."

"I will be," answered Malfoy gloatingly, and raised a brow to Harry in a challenge. "Seven hours from now, I will be."

Harry looked at Malfoy, convincing himself that although it would be quite to his satisfaction to jump Malfoy and though it would be much beneficiary to the world if he did, Dumbledore might think otherwise.

"Which reminds me--" Dumbledore faked a cough once, twice and thrice in an attempt to break the eye contact between the two students. "Which reminds me--" he repeated, louder.

That brought Harry's eyes on him.

"I trust that you have been accommodating Mr. Malfoy well."

Harry didn't bother with a reply.

But Malfoy did.

"Professor Dumbledore, I must say that I could do with better company and treatment, but since they're Gryffindos--as opposed to being civilized, smart, and classy--I understand."

Harry fought the urge to ask permission from the Headmaster to allow him to use the Body-Bind Charm on himself, if only to stop himself from hurting Malfoy again.

"Well, I'm sorry for your predicament," said Dumbledore, then he turned to Harry. "Mr. Malfoy is yet a Death-Eater. I hope that you could persuade him to go to our side."

Harry's brows furrowed. He didn't know what Dumbledore meant by his statement. When his eyes fell on Malfoy, he saw that he was considerably more pale than usual.

* * *

**A/N: **I've finally finished this chapter. I honestly thought that I'll be able to post sooner but to make up for that, I decided to make this chapter longer than usual. I know that Dumbledore's a bit OOC here. (I didn't know how he would react with Harry and Draco squabbling in front of him). And the sequel for Twenty Questions is being made. :) 


End file.
